Mira lies flat on her grandmother’s bedspread, staring straight up at the off-white plaster of the ceiling above her head. Her finger grip reflexively into the patchwork bedspread underneath her as she idly listens to the sound of her grandmother hurrying around in the next room. She resists the urge to sigh, or groan, or check her phone again, or give any other solid indication that she is horribly, unspeakably bored with her first extended-family visit since the semester had started. Only a freshman, and coming back from the dorms already felt alien and strange. Part of her wishes she’s stayed on campus, not that she had much to do there either. She turned her head to look down at the quilt, her eyes unfocused so that the blocks of colored fabric became hazy and the patterns shifted and swayed.
“Think this is the right one!” came her grandmother’s voice as she entered the room again. Mira leaned up onto her elbows to greet her. In her grandmother’s hands she held a plain brown shoe box. Mira is sure she’d seen it before, maybe stacked up in a hallway closet somewhere. Or maybe she’d stacked it up when they’d helped her grandmother move into her new condo in the retirement community. Something like that.
“Pictures?” Mira guesses, rising to sit up fully on the bed.
Her grandmother nods, shaking the box’s contents a bit for emphasis, “Mmmhmm. Just old pictures. Have I ever shown you these before?” The older woman takes a seat right beside her and places the box in the space between them. Dust has settled so thick it covers the lid like a wedding veil.
“I don’t think so.” Mira’s seen plenty of old family photos in albums, but can’t ever recall anyone dragging out a box like this.
“Might as well, right?” Her grandmother says, “Got a few hours yet until your Mama gets back.” Her grandmother wipes the dust off the box with a long sweep of her shaking hand, and then lifts up the lid to reveal the photographs stacked below.
To be continued