Anja Elder

My dad is driving. We’re going to see grandma, who has released herself from the hospital yesterday and is now home in her apartment in San Francisco. Outside the window cars are

Sarah and I are making bracelets. On Saturdays we often make bracelets. Or other jewelry. I’ve spent the morning in the hospital. Grandma is doing okay. Or so the doctors claim, according

The next morning is Thursday, and I wake up confused. Foggy. Things feel more normal, but also… not. Today is the day grandma is having her surgery. I’m not sure how to

“Hi”, Mara says, after I’ve awkwardly walked back through the door to sit down next to her on the steps. I look at her blankly. I don’t know if I’m

“Good morning Leia” Nate says when I enter the kitchen. It’s after ten, so morning is on the generous side of descriptions, but it’s Sunday and I have the day off.