Open the window. I'm choking.

[dexter27]

God! It’s horrible. I remember a song that my grandmother used to sing about a young girl dreaming her heart away. About sunshine and green leaves. There are times when I catch a smell just like her, a combination of baby powder, lavender, and chips ahoy cookies, and I have no other choice than to believe that she is in the other room; making

Comments

Miss you, and

[glogrl84]

You should publish your writing.

[ledotard]

I can recall the first time I saw my grandmother as a woman, not just a grandmother. She was telling me how her mother had considered her to be a sickly child and made her stay inside all the time. She never had any friends. One day she was sitting in her front yard when two of her female classmates walked by. They were happy and laughing about something. My grandmother told me that she was so angry to see them happy that she began to pick up rocks and throw them at the girls.

Today I visited my grandmother. I gave her a bag of sesame sticks and she gave me a pair of knee socks that she had originally bought for herself. I don't think that she realizes I plan on wearing them while getting fucked.

[dexter27]

Or perhaps Leda, she does. Remember she is not only your grandmother, but a woman. And women have needs. I hope you enjoy those knee socks, but be wary of chafing.

[ayawatson]

You are so amazing at writing. I think of my grandmothers from time to time and get really sad because I realize that I never knew them in any other context as "grandmother." But I know my American grandmother was part of the Coloniel Dames Society and would host huge cocktail parties for hundreds. My Japanese grandmother grew up on a small farm in Japan, and moved to Tokyo after the war began. It saddens me that I couldn't know them better. And it saddens me that they couldn't know me and watch me become a woman.