The Last Bastion
Words 102
“Wow!” Suresh stared at the gleaming vintage car, quite out of place in the rustic surroundings.
“Maharaja Pratap Chand’s car.” The decrepit grandson reclined on a charpoy under a tree.
“A goldmine Grandpa! If you sell it, our family fortunes will take a turn for the better.”
“We won’t sell the last symbol of our Royal heritage.”
“Of what use are symbols if we are dead?”
Grandpa pulled at his hookah.
“Would you consider renting it?”
“We, of royal families, don0t dabble in petty businesses.”
“The film industry would give good money.”
“If they need it, they may borrow it. For free.”
***
Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Al Forbes for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt, click here
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