“Can you hear me now?”
Played Scrabble with Grandma today. Z is a terrible menace. Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The History Journals
The Callthorn family's house had it's own little library tucked away in the upper floor. The family never purchased it's books. Every single one of them was written by a member of the family. And not a single one of them fiction. Well at least if the author's word is to be believed, as they are all journals.
In 1806 the great-great etc. Grandfather of the current generation Callthorns decided to make a journal of his hunting trips. Afterward he decided that he enjoyed writing a journal and wrote down what he did everyday and what he heard about everyday in the papers or from people around town. When the space in a journal ran out he went on to the next journal to write. (He did have the luxury to afford as many of these as he pleased. The Callthorn family was a rich lineage.) He suggested the practice to his son who took it on. The son had his children do it and over time the whole Callthorn linage made journals and sent them to the library. Every moment of history they lived and witnessed recorded in the family library.
Their neighbors, the Redwoods, took a fancy to their idea after the first few generations did it. So two journal libraries of history co-existed right next to each other. Yet the journals told versions of events very differently as each family looked through the years of reality through separate eyes.
Remember the last time you read a history book?