Hana sat in the kitchen, a cool breeze laced with fragrances from the rūtos and daffodils below rolling in from the open window above the washbin. She stood on the chair watching over her grandmother’s shoulder as she rolled the potatoes reduced to paste for the cepelinai.
“Why are you making so many?” Hana asked, always intuitive.
“You never know what guests might appear at your table. What if Uncle Petras and your cousins come?”
“You didn’t say anything about Uncle Petras! He’s my favorite,” Hana said, leaning on the chair in the way her mother always scolded her for.
Her grandmother smiled knowingly. “Careful now, if you tip that chair over your mother will not be happy with me…”
***
Hana sat in the kitchen, cool breeze laced with fragrances from the petunias and geraniums outside rolling in from the open window above the sink. She rolled the cepelinai while her granddaughter stood on the chair watching. Hana’s daughter would be upset that she allowed such a thing.
“Why are you smiling, grandma?” Her granddaughter asked. She was always so curious.
“Oh nothing, just remembering a time with my grandmother.”
“Where’s she?”
Such a simple question. Such a difficult answer. Hana turned her attention to chopping cabbage—turned her attention back to this happy memory. There were so few of those after…
“Isn’t there only eight of us grandma?”
Eight, only eight. She remembered a time not so long ago when there were many more of them. A time when Hana was young and played hide and seek through their little fields with her cousin Jonas while Uncle Petras searched for them. He never did, until their laughing gave them away. She believed there was a strength in that.
And then a time where there were hundreds, no thousands, of them together in a long dark hall where the absence of light had nothing to do with there being no windows cut into the walls. Uncle Petras searched for Jonas in that hall too, all while Hana prayed she’d hear a laugh that never came.
“There are, sweet one,” Hana paused, gripping the edge of the counter. “My mother used to say… well, you never know when someone might be hungry.”
Hana tugged at her sleeve, making sure her granddaughter couldn’t see what hid beneath. There’d be a time for that someday, but not today.
“Dinners ready!”
———————————————————-
A/N: WC 396.
Written for the Beginnings/endings challenge below:
If you've enjoyed this, please leave a like and an insight below. If you really enjoyed this, tips to fuel my coffee addiction are always appreciated. All formatting is designed for desktops. Want to read more? Below are the best of the very best of my works:
About the Creator
Matthew J. Fromm
Full-time nerd, history enthusiast, and proprietor of arcane knowledge.
Here there be dragons, knights, castles, and quests (plus the occasional dose of absurdity).
I can be reached at [email protected]
Keep reading
More stories from Matthew J. Fromm and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Past Lives
War made for odd couples. To Private Jim Mclellan, Sepp seemed a good man; better at least than some of the monsters he heard stories of deeper into the Reich. Real monsters. This Sepp almost reminded Jim of his uncle; the one from Wisconsin he met a few times at Weddings.
By Matthew J. FrommExclusive • 10 months ago
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (11)
Such a big story told in so few words.
Beautiful little tale! I’d like to get to know these characters.
This certainly feels like it could be the start or end to a story, so many details that leave questions in the mind. I want to read the story this came from.
I like how you reveal just enough here, so that there’s plenty left to the imagination of the reader. The repetition of the opening was a nice touch, and the laugh that never comes is also memorable. Nicely done Matthew 👏🏾
Damn you Fromm. I can't even argue with ol' Gabriel. This was clever, subtle, poignant, controlled, beautiful, all those kindsa words. With the darkest hint of lived-in trauma. Just, my hats off to you. One of your best for sure. Especially in the more grounded real world. Every single detail felt important and added to the experience. And like DK said, it had this breathtaking cinematic feel. Like when you see human nature and relationships and connection explored on the big screen. Loved it. Could you tell? And a very fine win for you, sir. I tip my hat you again.
Beautifully told & cleverly written.
This is wonderful, Matthew! so poignant and cinematic!
Well-wrought! I love this subtle insinuation of something, which some readers may catch and others not. It reminds me of scenes from some of my favorite films as a child with excellent references I did not catch at the time but found as an adult revisiting them with my own children. Immediately to mind: Karate Kid, where Mr. Miyagi is drunk and remembering his wife, and Daniel finds the papers about the camps; and The Monster Squad, where the seemingly scary neighbor who turns out to be helpful says something to the effect of "I have dealt with monsters" and we see the tatoo on his wrist. Tastefully and beautifully rendered, sir!
Oh, this felt all too short, Matthew. I was so ready for it to go on <3
THis piece is filled with love and emotional beauty yet underneath, just before more is said we feel the underlying despair of something gone wrong.
Very well written, already wiping away the tears