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Weekly Contest #313
Usually, Grandma’s house smells like lavender and freshly baked bread, but today it smells like death. It hangs in the air, like a dark cloud brooding for a storm. Mother breathes it in with her deep inhales, fighting back the tears – she was old, she lived a long and happy life - while I silently hope she doesn’t keel over too. I’m glad nobody has mentioned it – the smell. Perhaps they haven’t noticed. Too busy doing the things people do when someone dies. Silly things. Things to take your mind off the very serious thing happening around yo...
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