The Introduction

The first time

my grandmother

laid eyes on me

that Spartan afternoon bathed in July

I stood sweaty

rumpled wilted

in the middle of

her dusty courtyard.

After my seven-thousand-

mile journey

all I managed to notice was her muddy gray veneer.

When I looked

again, I found her

eyes seeping into mine -

was she trying to

take in all of my

sixteen years with

one glance? Was she trying

to make a connection

with what was hers?

Like a Mediterranean sunrise

her beautiful shy

smile opened her face

and out poured

crackling oranges,

searing blues, a

dauntless red with

touches of yellow


around the edges.

Like sea surges on

shore and quenches

parched earth,

my grandmother and I met.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.




Save for later


Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items


Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items


Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items