Another prompt from Rochelle. I love this picture, it is so fascinating to imagine where bottles have been and how they were made through the centuries. As always, don’t forget to read all the other wonderful Friday Fictioneer stories.
My grandfather loved bottles. He told me once that he always imagined finding a note. He did find a bottle in the sea, but no note. He was not dismayed, but kept hoping. He liked to say that his life was seen in his collection; everywhere he had been, could be found. All types and colors, liquor to medicine; blues, greens, clear; he never discriminated, Gramps said, guffawing.
Some he hung like chimes, others were displayed throughout his house. Grannee accepted this hobby, and dutifully dusted the bottles. After he was gone, the bottles were always clean, but some had water stains.