Standing next to the marble memorial of his grandfather, he looked tall and strong and, most of all, young. Despite knowing she shouldn’t, that it was a sin bordering on sacrilege, his grandmother envied him. His lankiness, his clumsiness, his ability to live without physical pain – she envied all of him. And she knew she could take it from him, use it to bring her dead husband back to life. Or just keep it for herself, to be young again, whole again, even though doing so would require her to leave her home, her family, hide from everything she ever knew.
Seeing her stare at her grandson so, her daughter whispered to her, “It wasn’t his fault. You have to forgive him.”
Grandmother thought about the old rites and ways, that Halloween was fast approaching. After an eternity of internal consideration, grandmother replied, “Why?”
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