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Published by Terry Collett

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Published by: Terry Collett on Feb 01, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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APRON.An apron. Grandmother’s apron, there in the bag from thehouse clearance. You remember her wearing it and others likeit; the flower patterned cotton cloth aprons that she alwaysseemed to wear whenever you saw her, with the two pocketswhere she kept her pegs and cigarettes, that went over thehead and shoulders and tied about the waist, coming down justabove the knees. You remember trying to count the flowers;the blues and greens or pinks and reds, and her hands tuckedin looking for the pegs to hang clothes on the outside line orthe cigarette which she’d light up and inhale deeply especiallyif Granddad had got on her nerves which he often seemed todo. You’d go there Sundays with the parents and there’d beGran with cigarette in between her thin lips puffing away andtaking out the cigarette to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.Don’t get too close to your granddad or he’ll cough and splutterall over you, Gran’d say, peering through the gap between the

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1 hundred reads
Carl F Maulbeck added this note
Well-said Terry - "Memories soaked up in the cloth"
Carl F Maulbeck liked this

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