Delio Pera on Nostr: The memory carried on the smell of wet grass hit her hard. Dad had mowed the lawn ...
The memory carried on the smell of wet grass hit her hard. Dad had mowed the lawn every weekend, but that particular Saturday after it rained the night before had been the one that stuck to her.
Maybe it was because of how frustrated he'd been.
Every couple of feet he'd get stuck in the mangy wet grass and have to shove the mower with his foot. On every pass he'd tip the thing over to scrape the collected muck out of the bottom. The whole job usually only took him ten minutes, the yard wasn't all that big, but that time it took him over an hour.
She'd watched him from her second story room, face in her hands, elbows on the sill. The whole scene played clear as the day it happened any time she encountered the smell.
Mom walked back in from the hallway bathroom. "You alright?"
'I guess." Joan turned from the open window.
"The grass." Mom pushed a lock of gray-white hair back behind her ear.
Joan took a seat at the kitchen table. "Yeah."
Maybe it was because of how frustrated he'd been.
Every couple of feet he'd get stuck in the mangy wet grass and have to shove the mower with his foot. On every pass he'd tip the thing over to scrape the collected muck out of the bottom. The whole job usually only took him ten minutes, the yard wasn't all that big, but that time it took him over an hour.
She'd watched him from her second story room, face in her hands, elbows on the sill. The whole scene played clear as the day it happened any time she encountered the smell.
Mom walked back in from the hallway bathroom. "You alright?"
'I guess." Joan turned from the open window.
"The grass." Mom pushed a lock of gray-white hair back behind her ear.
Joan took a seat at the kitchen table. "Yeah."