Each breath ignited a fire in my lungs. Still, I remained in place as my hand traced the aged closet that displayed my grandmother’s bold, African print frocks a year after her death. I don’t know why I chose this dreary, overcast day to store her away. It added to the weighty silence in the ...

I was too far into my memories to detect the emptiness of the wooden house; the silence that fell to the pigeons perched on the branches of the mango tree outside. The rocking chair, with its comforting creaks, grew quiet behind me, and the warm sensation that permeated my body and relaxed my soul vanished ...

Only when the strain in my cheeks became unbearable did I realize I was smiling. Regardless, lines of salted emotions stained my face. The memories of Gran brought on a mental fog, yet my body felt light. Muscles relaxed from oils and incense, remnants of when she occupied the small bedroom. Much of her was ...

Calm smoothed over the landscape as quickly as the turbulent weather erupted. I perched on my grandmother’s bedroom window and watched the sun’s rays battle the clouds for dominance. As it strained to break through, I struggled against the feeling of my lungs closing up. The fresh, earthy smell of Gran’s backyard after the recent ...

As the jagged edge struck the crown of my head, the bundle of dingy white envelopes slipped out of the rubber band that held them together. I hadn’t seen it there, on the top shelf of my grandmother’s closet. So when I tried to take down the Danish cookie tin Gran kept as a piggy ...