Portraits of this generation stand on the top of the grand piano, making it impossible to open the thing and get a good quality of sound out of it, not that anyone dare play in the sanctuary. Portraits of the previous generation hang on the wall in the family room. Portraits of the generation before that hang in the dining room, while portraits, just four of them, all that they had, hung in the living room, huge ovals of ancestry cluttering up what might have been a nice space. The house would have to be remodeled before another generation came, as there is no room for them. No room for gilded baby booties, either, come to think of it.
Kathleen lives and writes in Carnation, Washington. She reads fantasy and science fiction and would like to see more ferrets in fiction.