I spied this broken tray by the roadside, and was instantly flooded with questions. Who are all these people? Are they a family, or is this a group assemble to photograph for tourist tat? Who owned and discarded this treasure so unceremoniously?

In my home we have a hand-me-down couch where people we’ve lost once used to sit. The scene above made me wonder if in some small way a hint of us remains in the goods we use, handle or sit on.

Imagine a household accessory imbued with the essence of your ancestors – whether that’s a tray, couch, or something else. What significance does their presence have? If you wanted to replace it with shiny new or more comfortable version, could you get rid of this poignant old one? If so, how would you do it?

How can you weave this idea into a story?

If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley (at) iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.