Punnik

My name is Blanche, and I turned 80 last spring. I lived in a small room in my granddaughter June’s house. It was cozy, filled with keepsakes and memories from my life.

“Morning, Grandma,” June called one sunny Saturday, bursting into my room without knocking. She never knocked. “Morning, dear,” I said, folding my blanket.

“What’s the hurry?”

“We’re taking continue reading …