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the trouble with grandma

“What are we going to do about Grandma?” my sister Sharon asked.  I sighed.  Grandma had always been a problem, and something had to be done about her, now that my sister Sharon was moving to Tennessee.  Away from the cold, coastal rain and into the humid heat.  Away from the town where we grew up.  Away from family ties.  We sat on the floor in the bungalow’s bare-walled living room among the packing boxes, strapping tape and sacks of packing popcorn, wrapping stemware in dishcloths and towels.  I was staying but I sure as heck didn’t want Grandma.

Beside The Potted palm

  • keltzster 

Lucy hadn’t wanted to be here, but her boss had all but mandated that she attend this cocktail party celebrating the head of the publishing company. She gave herself an hour, and then she was going home, her assignment fulfilled. She detested time wasted with empty chatter about things of no consequence.