Photo Credit: Christopher Seufert Photography
Arriving at the harbor we turned our faces to the salt breeze. I grabbed gram's gnarled hand in mine as we strolled letting the waves and gulls fill the silence. When Gram tired, we sat watching the incoming tide.
"Remember me here," she whispers.
Each year I return to hear her voice in the wind.
About the Creator
Alyssa
I've always wanted to write but have so much shame around my skills from years of feeling not good enough. But you know what, EFF IT! Let's write
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.