Hello!
Here’s one of this week’s writing prompt exercises. It’s a 20-minute exercise based on the above photo and the keyword “grandparent.”
Grandma’s slippers were huge. She went everywhere in them. They had thick rubber soles, worn at the heels and a plush sky-blue fabric she could stick her socked feet into. There were crease lines where her toes bent but much fewer than she had on her face. Fewer than on my shoes. I don’t think Grandma really bent her toes any more when she walked, she shuffled forward slowly, lifting one foot so that the rubber barely left the ground then placing it firmly back on the ground. Then the next foot. We made fun of how slowly she walked. Sometimes when she was napping upstairs we’d play Grandma Races around the kitchen table in our small flat. Ma and Da were at work so nobody shouted at us to be respectful. Grandma Races was all about coming last. We started at the hall doorway then had to walk around the table as slowly as we could. Whoever reached the hall doorway first had lost. My brother usually won. Halfway around the table I’d get bored.
The only time I won was when we were a bit older. Ben was about 13 then and had a girlfriend. He needed to leave by six. We started at about 5:30 after we’d eaten. I’ve never moved so slowly before. Halfway round he just gave up and walked to the finish line. It didn’t feel any different to win.
I was alone in the house with Grandma until 9 pm that night. She got up just after Ben left and pottered around the kitchen. I offered to make her her tea but she wanted to do it herself. It drove me mad with frustration seeing how long it took her to do everything.
She’d been through the Second World War and although she couldn’t have been wearing the slippers at the time it was somehow impossible to imagine her without them. I imagined her meeting Grandpa while wearing the slippers. Learning that her brother had lost his life in Belgium in those slippers. Listening to the news that the war was over in slippers.
We went to the park one Sunday shortly before she died. She sat on a bench while me and Ben and Da kicked a ball around. Ma talked to Grandma and on her phone. It was a late February day, the sun was out but our breath still frosted in the air. Grandma was wrapped up in a sheepskin coat and thick tights, a woolen hat which should have been red but had brownish streaks on the ribbing from her hair. We walked back through the town and as we passed a shoe shop I saw the same blue slippers that she was wearing. They were on display but decently presented in the back row of the window, not taking up room but just there if anyone wanted them. Special Offer, Everything Must Go. I looked back at Gran and for the first time saw how much she looked like Ma. More wrinkles and smaller. But a woman. Just like Ma was a woman before she became Ma. And then I was able to see her as she might have been. A little girl, a young woman. Wearing her best clothes when she went to meet Grandpa when they started stepping out. Making fun of her Granny when she was little. She looked at me and gave me her wise old woman smile. That’s what Da called it. But it wasn’t a wise old woman smile. It was just a smile. One person to another.
If I could only make one change it would be to rearrange the line ” Learning that her brother had lost his life in Belgium in those slippers.” so that it didn’t sound like her brother was wearing the slippers. Interesting, that’s the same mistake as I made last time. I need to watch that.
Making good progress on my first draft of my novel, 65% finished as of yesterday.
