muse: week of
| Title (if any) | junkyard |
|---|---|
| Prompt | i strongly believe that we're little mosaics of our ancestors, all the people we've known, & a sort of 'us' esssence. explore something you've learned or something that matters to you that came from somewhere outside of you |
| Word count | 197 |
| Warnings (if any) | None |
| Next | None yet! |
| Previous | None yet! |
Pitter pat-
Patter pit-
Splash!
I shook the mould and deckle. I held out a hand behind it and squinted. I bit my lip. Well, if it’s too thick, I'll just throw it in the blender again.
From somewhere, dad asked, “What’re you doing?”
“Making paper.” I replied, placing a square of fabric on top and then flipping it over.
“Oh,” He paused, “Your grandma did that too. Laid ‘em out or something like this.”
I nodded. He went off to do something.
My grandma, his mom, died when I was really young. I don’t know anything about her. I don’t know anything about my dad’s childhood honestly. I only knew that there was war. I only knew that they fled. I only knew that it was hard and he didn’t want to talk about it.
...
I wonder how grandma’s paper turned out. I wonder if she’d be able to help. Maybe she’d be able to talk about it.
Maybe.