The pattering of the rain on
the tin roof filled the room, cold chill of the air seeping into my
bones. The stark gray light of the day passed through the windows and
cast a grim glow over everything. Faded pink walls were decorated
with pictures of times long gone, forever captured in yellow and
black. A soft
creak came from the door as it opened and revealed the shape of my
granddaughter, a tray with two cups in her hands. I sent a quick
smile her way but didn't stop moving the long needles in my hands,
weaving the ocean blue yarn into a new form.

The cups clacked as Clarissa
set the tray down of a nearby table, white trails of smoke raising
from the dark liquid inside.

“Sorry it took so long
grandma, I couldn't find the matches." she said with a shy smile
on her verdant green face.

“Don't worry dear, I have
trouble finding those matches myself all the time." I told her with
a soft voice, my heart fluttering when her tusks framed a wide smile.
She looks just like his mother.

Clarissa took a seat in the
sofa across mine, her slim body sinking into the dark purple
cushions. My old heart burned with joy whenever I looked at her, so
different from the child she had been and yet, she still had some of
that energy of youth in her eyes. She was taller now, close to the
one hundred and eighty five meters of her mother but without her
girth. Black wavy hair adorned her hair, just like her father. A snow
white blouse covered her torso, pink roses doting the fields of
white. Her black jeans rode low on her lips, the rough fabric a far
cry of what I had worn at her age.

“Everyone dresses like this
now," she said when she saw my roaming eyes, her arms crossing over
her chest.

I gave her a polite smile,
more amused than upset by her reaction. “Well, you should bring
this 'Everyone' here, I'd love to know more about them."

That got a laugh out of her,
the melodic sound echoing in the room like it used to so long ago.

“Grandma, that's not what
I meant. It's just, this is the fashion. You know, like those puffy
dresses you showed me once."

“Those were not meant for
respectable young women to use."

“But you were the one
wearing them!" she said with excitement, her finger pointing to a
picture in the wall. I didn't need to turn to know which one it
was, the layout of this room as familiar to me as my own body.

“I never said I was a
respectable young woman. Your great grandfather sure complained about
that a lot." I shot back with a hint of mischief in my tone before
I set aside my work.

“He did? Did he do anything
about it?"

“Oh no, he loved to complain
but he also loved to see me happy," I said, my voice growing softer
and wistful. “Things were different in those days, our values, our
morals, our freedoms, they weren't as many as they are today.
Everyone thought your great grandfather was strange back then,
allowing his only daughter to dress as she pleased."

“Wait, you couldn't dress
like you wanted?" Her eyes grew wide like platters, her hands
clutching the borders of her blouse.

“No, you couldn't, unless
your father said you could and mine did." I shared a conspiratorial
look with her, a soft laugh raising from my chest. “He said I
should learn how to stand on my own two feet and he always stood by
that, whether it was clothes, marriage or life. I, of course, took
advantage of that, much to my friends' shock."

“And your mom didn't say
anything about that?"

“No, my mom was always more
focused on her research than with what I wore. Though, form time to
time, she would throw
a few remarks of improvements I could make to my dresses and she was
almost always right."

“Almost always?"

I took the cup in my hands,
the warmth from the ceramic breathing back life into my aching
fingers. I took a sip from the dark liquid before I said, “Unlike
what men like to think, we're not always right. The same applied to
my mom."

Clarissa gave me a quick nod
before her own hands went for her cup. A hiss left her lips when her
fingers touched the ceramic, a grimace appearing on her face. She
didn't let that stop her, much like her mother, and soon she was
taking her first sip of tea. Her shoulders sagging while a soft hum
left her throat.

“I hope things are going
well with your university." I said after a couple of minutes of
silent drinking.

“Huh? Ah yes, it's going
well. A lot of hard work and sleepless nights, but that's part of
the experience I guess." resignation clung to her voice, the brown
bag under her eyes betraying her tiredness.

“Hmm... I see, just remember
to pace yourself. It will be all for nothing if you study until
you're dead."

“I will grandma, don't
worry."

“Nope, can't do. I'm
your grandma, I will always worry about you and I will also spoil
you." I said with a firm tone, bringing another laugh out of her.

“You don't have to
grandma." she said, her cheeks tinting red.

“Oh, but I will. For one,
I'm doing this lovely pink sweater just for you. Perfect to keep
you warm in cold night and to pick up handsome young
men--"


“Grandma!"

“Well, it can also be for
beautiful young women, it is very versatile."

Clarissa hid her face behind
her hands, her tea cup dancing dangerously on her lap. I couldn't
hold back the laugh that came from me. The phantom of another orc in
the same position danced before my eyes, the sound of that
embarrassed voice ringing in my ears.

“Why did you say that?
Grandmas are not supposed to say that."

“Well, when have I ever done
things like other people?"