601 Divine Trials

EGP300

“Thank God,” she says, as though she is sharing a secret with it. She prepares a cup of mate, rolls her cigarette, rubs it between her short, aged fingers, and inhales it with a hunger for life. She burns the far end, then moistens it with her saliva to extinguish the flame. She pulls me close beneath the warm blanket. I was a child; I wish I had never grown up, grandmother! She draws me to her once more. I sink into her, disappear, and depart with her into the distance. The morning breeze is cold, its touch soft as death.

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“Thank God,” she says, as though she is sharing a secret with it. She prepares a cup of mate, rolls her cigarette, rubs it between her short, aged fingers, and inhales it with a hunger for life. She burns the far end, then moistens it with her saliva to extinguish the flame. She pulls me close beneath the warm blanket. I was a child; I wish I had never grown up, grandmother! She draws me to her once more. I sink into her, disappear, and depart with her into the distance. The morning breeze is cold, its touch soft as death.

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