Xanadu

I'm two houses away from home when I see that my side door is ajar. I want to stop. I know I closed it. I can't go in there. But my feet keep moving and I'm walking down the sidewalk, closer and closer. From the edge of the driveway, I can see that the front door is wide open, too.

I don't understand why someone would break in and leave doors wide open, calling attention to what they're doing. But maybe they're trying to warn me so I stay away. I want to heed their warning, but some part of me isn't listening.

I climb up the steps and walk into the side door, grocery bag clutched in my hand like I can use the bananas as a weapon.

My grandmother is in my kitchen. She looks like she always does - always did. She died ten years ago but has been in my thoughts more than ever before. Now she's in my house. I decide to go along with it.

"I brought the bananas," I say, wondering if she'll be startled by my voice. Instead, she turns with a grin on her face and envelops me in a hug. It feels like her hugs used to... almost. Something is off, but I try to brush it away. I want to enjoy whatever this experience is.

We work together preparing dinner and don't even have to talk, but I want to talk. I want to ask her what's going on, where she's been, what it's like. But I don't want to burst the beautiful bubble we're in.

When the meal is in the oven, we sit at the table with glasses of tea sweating in front of us. I open my mouth because my logical brain can't stand it anymore. It's been ten years. She was turned to ash. There's no way she can be here, but I know I'm not asleep.

She sees my open mouth and smiles sadly. She knows me. Knew me. I can't keep quiet; I'm too curious. Before a word can be spoken, she's gone. We're both gone. I feel like I'm floating in a cloud, surrounded by damp grayness. I can still see my kitchen below me. It's empty of people, but full of black smoke. I hear sirens in the distance. I turn and follow my grandmother wherever she's leading me.

397 words