Lost

“Found him!” cried Marco.

The search party had widened and widened their area, but no one expected him to be this far afield, or at the bottom of those overgrown stairs.

The old man studied Marco’s face. “You look so familiar,” he said.

“I’m your grandson,” Marco replied. “Marco. Jenny’s son.”

The old man just stared and shook his head. “How did I get here?” he finally asked.

Marco laughed. It was a friendly laugh, intended to put the old man at ease. “We were hoping you would tell us,” he said.

“Jenny,” the old man repeated, rolling the name around in his mind and occasionally repeating it. “Son, I don’t remember knowing any Jennys.”

“Jenny — your daughter, my mum!” he said. Then he added, “You always insisted on calling her Jennifer, remember?”

“Ah, Jennifer! Yes! She should be getting home from school any minute now,” he said, smiling.

He looking up the old tree-lined steps. “That’s a long set of steps. I don’t remember coming down them.”

Marco steadied the old man, slipping his arm under the man’s left arm and gripping his forearm. “Let’s find a place to sit for a minute,” he said, peering around the lower garden for a bench. “We’ll figure this out.”

“You look familiar,” said the old man.

“I’m Marco. Your grandson,” the younger replied.

“Grandson? I’m a grandfather?”

“I’m Jennifer’s son,” Marco replied.

“Jennifer should be getting home from school pretty soon,” the old man said. “How did I get here?”

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This is my (late) submission for the Unicorn Challenge. The challenge is pretty simple — no more than 250 words, and use the photo as a prompt.