The key to my Grandmother’s house is something everybody had.
You were welcomed there, happy, grieving, melancholy or sad.
Come on in and share with me, she says, your tales, your life, your woes.
I will always listen, never criticize and help you with curves life throws.
My house can be your house for as long as it takes,
For I know that time and love can heal the breaks.
Let’s have coffee or tea,
And you can certainly tell me.
I will always listen and hear what you say,
And maybe you will be happier when you are on your way.
Yes, you can be happy with a key to my Grandmother’s house.
Life was lived there.
short stories 