Description
As I hurried down the alley and approached my grandfather’s house, I found the door open. My heart pounded, and I had a feeling my grandmother was standing there. If she wasn’t, she must be waiting in the middle room. She would rush at me; I would smell the scent of childhood and green trees, the scent of the earth, on her chest and clothes.
I went through the door and circled the room. I found my uncle’s room unchanged, clean and with the pictures still there. But one thing disturbed me and left a sadness I couldn’t explain: the dust on the mattress and table.
Before I finished my rounds, several of my grandmother’s neighbors came by. From their eyes, which spoke before words, I sensed that everything was over.
At the end of the alley, I stopped and looked back. The door was still open, as if waiting for someone to come.











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