Nan's Island
Mason clasped her hands, as he squatted before the sofa. "I love you, Nan…more than anything in this world." At thirty-six, no shame would accompany the words—the affection for his beloved grandmother.
After his father ran off with a younger woman, never to be heard from again, after his mother had a nervous breakdown then joined the Peace Corps then Amnesty International´s European division—all before his fifth birthday—Nan, his mother´s mother, nurtured him to adulthood and beyond.
Nan sat with hands in Mason´s, upon her lap. She wore thick, black-rimmed glasses, a powder-blue, knee-length knit dress, and support hose and shoes. She sported curly, gray hair and hazel eyes.
Mason´s grandmother suffered from early-stage Alzheimer´s Disease. Most days, Nan conversed with ease, no less articulate than the former schoolteacher had ever been. But some days…some hours…some moments…
Nan ogled Mason. "Who are you, young man?" MORE
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