letters of goild

of deep green and gold. It was Lily’s, from her days at Headashers, still crisp as if waiting for another Monday morning assembly.

“Granny, do you remember this?” Lily asked, her fingers tracing the embroidered crest.

Granny looked up from her knitting, her eyes twinkling with recollection. “Oh, I do, dear. That uniform saw you through your first spelling bee victory and the day you painted the mural in the library.”

Lily laughed, the echoes of her childhood filling the room. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

Granny nodded, her gaze lingering on the uniform. “Time flies, but some threads never lose their color. Just like the memory and we are in london is that right granny said lily