Lucas

"I'm here grandma, sorry to keep you waiting." I appologies.

My grandmother waited in her apartment, seated erect amongst the finery and books that were her treasures. But her gaze was distant, lost in memory's embrace.

"You said you have something to talk about but came late." She whined and turned with a brief lapse of surprise as I entered, before her expression shifted to customary sternness.

"My bad was hold on call with Alex." I explained.

Dwelling too long in times faded often stole the richness from present moments. But she remembered herself swiftly now.

"Lucas. What's wrong. What matter makes you want to talk so late?" At...