This Is Not Nostalgia

Standard

On my walk home for lunch, I smelled my grandmother’s cooking. Not a specific dish, but the smell of her kitchen: warm and savory, like potatoes and bread and pie dough.

It was a little shocking and a lot weird, because my grandmother lived nearly 200 miles away and she’s been dead for 30 years. If she’s trying to haunt me, she’s running way behind schedule. Which isn’t like her at all.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s