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Weekly Contest #284
My grandad never talked much. Not because he didn’t love us. I never got that impression at all. He just didn’t like speaking. Quiet as a mouse, he was like a ghost, sometimes seen but rarely heard. He always came to every function. He’d sit down with us all, break bread and chow down. He loved collared greens probably more than us all. He’d make the cornbread every Christmas. I made mashed potatoes just for him, his favorite thing. That and the pie. He’d pile his plates up high. At least the food did make him smile. He would always stay for...
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