Sunday Photo Fiction: The Blob
It sat on his mantle until the day Granddad died then it disappeared.
“Priceless.” Was Granddad’s exact price. We thought it had been stolen. 
We called the police. They came, they searched, found nothing; no suspects and no priceless glassware.
My greedy brother was furious.
And when he found it in on my mantle, in my living room, he went ballistic.
He refused to believe that I had no idea what happened.
He took it and said I wouldn’t get one penny once he sold it.
A high-end gallery bought it, put it on display. But when they came in the next morning, it was gone. They accused my brother of stealing it. Had him arrested, but the police never found it or evidence accusing my brother.
My brother begrudging paid the money back. Charges were dropped.
One week later, after all had quieted, the globe reappeared on my mantle.
I immediately called my brother.
As he stepped into my home, the globe disappeared.
It reappeared the second he left.
Every time he comes over, it disappears and reappears when he leaves.
Granddad never said the blob was magic. Guess it’s up to me to figure out how it works.
The End
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Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words.
Read more of my stories at Short Stories.
Read more Sunday Fiction by clicking on blue frog.
Mysterious. I like it.
thank you so much. ;0)