The Baddiswell Twins

A microfiction I once wrote, inspired by a photo I once took

The Baddiswell twins returned once (only once) to the house in which they'd grown up. Amazingly, their foster parents' estate had managed to keep it in quite good shape over the decades since the twins left. Of course, the twins themselves got none of the money. Not that they were bitter to have been shut out of the will: it had been worth it just to hear Poppa Dan's scream, to see the terror in Momma Min's eyes as she too toppled over the railing...

“All right, you two,” said a voice behind them now. “Enough lollygagging. Back in the van.” They turned and climbed into the paddy wagon again, their leg irons clinking forlornly against the sheet metal of its frame. No one on the outside ever saw the Baddiswells again.