Ancient Ruins of Centuries Past

Where did they go?” Margaret asked, one hand pointing towards the ancient ruins and the other clutching her brother’s hand.

“They didn’t go anywhere,” Linus shrugged. “They died.”

“Died?”

“Yea, years ago.”

“Like, before Grand-pappy died?”

“Centuries before.”

“What’s a century?”

Linus chewed on his lip. “One hundred years, I think.”

Margaret reached out to touch the crumbling stone. The corner flaked off and fell to the ground.

“I think I broke it,” she whispered.

Linus tugged her hand, pulling her from the wall. “We’re not supposed to touch.”

“Why not?” Margaret asked. “They don’t care, they’ve been dead for a centuries.”

“A century.” Linus corrected. “And they don’t care, but that man does.”

Margaret followed her brother’s pointed finger towards the guard posted near the entrance. His eyes were on the two children.

“It’s okay, Guard!” Margaret yelled. “They’re not coming back home, they’ve been dead for a century!”


For more Adventures of Linus and Margaret


Monday’s Finish the Story:

Ruins - © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Finish the story begins with:  “Where did they go?”

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