Cloud of Unknowing
Mom and dad always say ‘Don’t run in the dirt!’ So I don’t. I grab onto grandma’s hand and I walk. Mom and dad always say ‘Respect your elders and interrupting conversations is rude!’ So I stay quiet while grandma hugs people in black and tells them it’s okay and we’re fine. Mom and dad always say ‘Don’t talk to strangers!’ So I hide behind grandma when a lady she’s talking to suddenly pats my head and says I’m sorry dear and her tears drips on my face before I could escape. Mom and dad always say ‘Do what your elders tell you to do!’ But my grandmother doesn’t tell me to do anything. She just frowns and her lips quiver and she squeezes my hand real tight that it hurts. So I look up. There are clouds in the sky, like glaciers. (I’m very proud of that word. My mom said it one day and I looked it up in the dictionary all by myself. I’ll use it in an essay sometime.) I try to make out the shapes in them and count how much I found. I see a dragon and a bird just perching on it. There’s also a lion. Dad likes lions. I’ll tell him when we get back.
And the crying becomes so much louder.
And the crying becomes so much louder.