Story of one woman by Ann Wood

While I am in quarantine and some thoughts and passions pass through my head ...
I have a lot of time to think. I remember the last grandmother, a damn Greek woman, a crooked one, and even on her face it was written. But you can't with me, it's measured that I'm twice as crooked.
I both felt sorry for her and "blessed" her, as it came according to the situation!
From time to time I came up with some entertainment, so as not to be bored. Sometimes, however, things happened with the aid of my laziness or infantilism.
Again, thanks to my laziness, a small red board one summer evening disappeared before my eyes, deep behind the kitchen stove. And knowing how she would look for it and grumble, how she would grumble and look for it, I decided the next morning to move the stove in some way and get it out. Yes, but I hadn't moved her a little, and I heard that the grandmother, with a cheerful step, was coming for her morning tea, sitting on an elevator-chair. When I tried to push it back and then try again, the stove did not want to help me and go back to where it was and it was quite late, grandma, she had burst into the kitchen. Anticipating the dozens of questions, why did I move it and how the board ended up there, I pretended to be surprised and told the grandmother that I had just come down and found her like that. , this stove has passed since she had never done it before. I made coffee, sat in the living room and let the tickling, surprised grandmother draw her conclusions in peace.
After a while she arrived with the cherished morning tea, and set about informing the family of the situation. However, he hit a stone on his son, he, she was stretching something, got nervous and slammed the phone down. And in order for the story to be finished, I said that the board and the cutting were missing and I had no idea where it was, I was ready to shed a tear to grieve on the board .... The grandmother, however, decided to end the whole drama and cut it off.
- "My son, he doesn't believe me, but I know that my husband came while we slept, moved the stove and folded the cutting board. He was like that, he liked to joke ...."
Only he was, she said, even more emphatically, and began to burn incense and light candles.
Don't judge me harshly,
It is true that I lied to my grandmother, but I made her happy with the lie, because she remained convinced that her late husband still surrounded her from time to time ...

Short story by Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-08-14 at 20:25

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