Grandma Knows Their Names
Please accept my submission for Friday Fictioneers.
Cold air whipped Amy’s face as she slid out of Grandma’s car. Amy giggled and skipped to see the white birds. Grandma knew their names. What could she feed them? Grandma had always brought bread.
Amy stopped and put her hands in her pockets.
Grandma wasn’t in her house, which always smelled like baked bread. Grandma was in that other place, with funny smells. Daddy told Amy to be good and not make noise. Mommy cried.
Aunt Mary picked Amy up. They held each other tightly.