She’d forgotten where it came from. Maybe she’d won it in a game of bingo that time she went to Paris…
Now and then it made funny noises when she went down the steps.
It seemed so content, sitting there under her front porch. Her very own happy little universe.
This story was based on this prompt from @Haberley.
Every Thursday, Maxwell brought his Mum to Bingo. She never said thank you.
One week, she won fifteen thousand dollars. She took a limo home.
Next Thursday, she called him. “I need a ride to Bingo,” she said. “I spent all the money on clothes.”
He said, “Take the bus.”