Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Absolute Zero" data-source="post: 31630060" data-attributes="member: 529716">Gram struggles to her feet, moving toward the toaster. I watch with my jaw slack as she pulls the burnt toast from the machine. One piece is too hot and fallsfrom her fingers to the floor, but she manages to get the other on a plate. Then she scoops up the toast on the floor and places it on my plate next to the first. She picks up the plate and puts it down on the kitchen table.“Here you go, dear,” she says, as if this is a perfectly normal breakfast routine.I gawk at the toast. Both pieces are charred black, and one was on the floor only seconds ago.“Uh,” I say. “I’m really not that hungry.”“Are you sure?”I push the plate to the center of the table. “Very sure.”I’m not hungry, but I am extremely worried. My grandmother—one of the best cooks I’ve ever known— burned toast and served it to me like it was fine. Off thefloor. And in the process of cooking it, she nearly set fire to the house. It was bad enough when she was calling me by the wrong name, but this is an entirely different level of dangerous. And this is a woman who Ethel was planning to leave on her own all day when she did errands outside the house.</blockquote>

Top Bottom