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Purple Dreams

She visits her grandchildren while we are sleeping. Tonight it’s my turn. Everything glistens in shades of purple. Joan is waiting for me at the kitchen table, smiling, in a soft lavender blouse. New glasses, new hairdo, and perfectly plump. I lean in and pull her close, inhaling the scent of her Nivea face cream. It has been a few years since I hugged my grandma. When I finally release her, I call out to my mother to tell her grandma is here. “She cannot hear you, dear,” says Joan. “I’m only here for you.”

By: B. Jas