Musings 2

She sat on the top of stairs looking around feeling content. She had been driving to her grandma’s house for weekend reprieves more than usual now. She always liked to come here away from the bustle of the city, and grand mama health had been taking a worse turn.

As usual, she had cooked for grandma for the reminder of the week, to help ease some burden. ”But only for the weekdays” grandma told “I will cook for you on the weekend, my darling”. Even in old age, she wanted to pamper her only granddaughter.

Now, after then had had a jolly good time cooking and eating and snickering about neighbors’ antics, she was full to the point of bursting and happy. Grandma like her music, even now there was a soft tune of a folk song playing around the house.

“Have you ever heard a song so enchanting” grandma mused, from her rocking chair. Grandma had never found any love for fast songs of pop culture. And who would disagree, there was something soul nourishing about soft cascading tones of folk songs.

Alas, she had to return to city this evening, how she wished she could stay here permanently. Permanently! she laughed, when her forebears had never settled to even a county. She wished she was born in that era, where the nights would be wild with song and dance, days full of preparation of next move.

The thought of her tribal name ‘Kezia’ meaning ‘the sweet spice’ spilled to her mind again. It was given to her at time of her birth to honor Romany tradition, Grandma was adamant on it. The only link to her roots, as all the Romani had developed roots as strong as gadjos many centuries back. How she wished she could go back in time to that era, for she felt she never belonged to the current one.

But life goes on one day at a time, and so would she, after all the code wouldn’t write itself now would it!

Prompt words: Tribe, spill, soft, stair, rock