Short Story: Whispers like Melted Candy

The perfect white walls of the five-storey mansion stood out even among the other grand estates. But that wasn’t what people focused on.

“I heard it’s a front for a mafia.”

“My uncle told me it was built from stolen money.”

“The family fortune is gained from, could you believe it, mollynogging.”

“Molly what?”

“Never mind.”

The whispers clung like sticky melted candy. No matter how many years went by, the high society refused to let go of the residents’ humble history. For in their eyes, the lower class could never amount to anything.

“Ignore them,” the patriarch of the mansion said as work-worn hands ruffled the fine hair on a small head. “Time will prove that we’re here to stay.”

Judging eyes watched from a distance, but the little lady of the manor kept her head high.

So what if she wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth? With her own hands, she would continue the hard work her parents had begun until the same people who gossiped so maliciously against them clamoured for their approval.

~End~

Genre: general

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