Years later, she was cleaning her store-room. She found many old things and their fond memories. But, she had obliterated one incident of her life in order to move on. Her grandmother's death.
But those pair of socks....
Those pair of socks knitted by her granny. She suddenly desisted her cleaning task and sat quietly crying. She cried for her granny, for her love, for her touch. Granny had been her father, mother and all the power the world could give her. But, today she is just a memory, somewhere in her mind. Like those letters etched on wet seashore sands, soon to be gone by the perpetual rise and fall of waves. So unreal.
So unreal...
Written for Magpie Tales: mag 243