Short Story

That Old Rockin’ Chair’s Got Me

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Mark’s Today’s Writing Practice #9
where we’re given photo and written prompts.
Here’s where the prompts took me.

The Photo Prompt
Image from Mark @ Today’s Writing Prompt

The Written Prompt: A young woman hears her grandmother’s rocking chair creaking upstairs. The problem? Her grandmother died three years ago, and the chair has been locked in the attic ever since.

The house was quiet except for the Moody Blues playing softly on YouTube. Beth was alone, cozy in bed …. her favorite flannels keeping her warm as she typed a poem for WordPress. When the song ended and all was silent, Beth heard a noise.

Creak. Creak. The sound was faint but distinct…. and Beth recognized it as the old, dry floorboards in the attic above her. But what on earth could be making that noise? There was nothing up there.

Just then she remembered her late grandmother’s rocking chair. She felt a chill up her spine; her granny’s rocker had been locked away in the attic since the day she died three years ago. Beth had such beautiful memories of Granny in her chair; she just couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else using it. She had lugged it up to the attic herself, placed it by the window and left it there. She closed the door, sliding the chain lock securely in place. She knew she was being ridiculous but for extra measure, she attached her old combination lock from school onto the door chain.

Beth silenced YouTube and closed her Mac. There it was again. Creak. Creak. There was no mistaking that sound. She grabbed her phone and switched on the flashlight. She had to find out what was going on. Every step she took creaked and groaned under her feet.

Finally she reached the attic door; it was locked and exactly how she left it three years before but still, the creaking continued and the sound was coming from behind the locked door.

Beth tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder, a shaky beam from the flashlight shining on the lock. The combination kept eluding her; finally she got it and tugged the lock open. She slid the door chain and reached for the doorknob. Logically she knew no one could be in the attic but she hesitated before stepping inside.

Knowing exactly where she placed Granny’s rocking chair, she turned the flashlight in that direction. The chair was still, unmoving. It looked lost and forlorn, and the attic was in much worse condition that Beth remembered. On the seat of the chair was as book; Beth recognized it immediately as Granny’s diary. Beth slowly walked to the chair and picked up the diary; there was a marker in a page with today’s date. She held her breath as she read her grandmother’s neat cursive writing:

My darling Beth. I knew you’d find my diary, you clever, fearless girl! I miss you so very much, my dearest. I am in a peaceful place; do not worry. I have one wish: please place my beloved rocking chair where you will use it. I know if you do, we will be connected forever. I love you.

Beth welled up, tears falling on Granny’s diary. She knew then she never should have moved the chair into the dark, empty attic. It was as if she shut her grandmother away with all her memories. She whispered a promise to bring the rocker downstair to her bedroom and place it by the window …. and always remain close to Granny.

With the greatest of care, Beth pulled, pushed and tugged her grandmother’s old rocking chair through the attic door and positioned it at the top of the stairs. The chair was wedged between the walls and wouldn’t budge. Beth needed both hands to maneuver the chair stuck at the top of the stairs. She tucked dear Granny’s diary into the rear waistband of her pajama bottoms and put her back against the chair. With a groan, the rocker was free.

Before Beth could regain her footing, she tumbled backwards down the stairs, landing with tremendous impact against Granny’s chair. Her neck made a cracking sound like an old creaky floorboard when it snapped. Now Beth and her Granny were closer than ever, forever.

NAR©2025

This is “The Things We Do For Love” by 10cc

Today’s Writing Practice

All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy Richy and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

43 thoughts on “That Old Rockin’ Chair’s Got Me”

        1. It’s funny, Di. I’ve never really been comfortable in a rocking chair. For one thing, the back is too stiff and straight. Also, I always felt like someone could get hurt by walking into the rocker’s runners or a pet’s tail could get caught under one. Even the rocker-recliners we have never get used as just rocking chairs. I know people love them but not us!

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      1. It was almost the end of your story when Beth tucked dear Granny’s diary into the rear waistband of her pajama bottoms, and I figured that was either going to save her life by preventing her from breaking her spine, or she was going to die and either way you went with that would have worked out fine, so there is no need for you to think your story needs any improvement.

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