PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Fuller
‘That one.’ I pointed at a stone, lumpy as fossilised porridge.
‘You know that one,’ Nana pretend scolded. ‘A pigeon from Pompeii. Ash cloud caught it in mid-flap. The bird’s still inside, beak open, feathers perfect.’
‘Spinal disc of an ichthyosaur.’
My blanket was pulled round me, tucked up to my chin, the silky edge slipping over my bare toes.
Nana reached for another rock, oval this time, surface shimmering with amethyst crystals. ‘This is the best. Draco majestas regia – a dragon’s egg.’
She held it to my ear. From inside, a sound like a leather umbrella unfolding.