Just a little paragraph from my short story

Grandfather acted strange that day when he saw me, motioning his hand for me to come closer. As I stood next to his bed just inches from his body he grasped my hands in between his as he closed his eyes and began mumbling some prayer, a Native American chant of some sort. I couldn’t make it out but I knew grandpa was sick so I let him carry on as I just stood there and watched him. Just as he finished a tear rolled down his cheek, he looked at me and smiled as I wiped the tear then wrapping my arms around his neck giving him a big squeeze as I had done so many times before. Grandpa passed that night and I cried for days.

©Diana L. Householder 2013
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