“My father planned this place. The benches were carefully placed, not facing , knowing the lack of cordiality between certain natives.”
I couldn’t decipher Grandma’s smile. Wrinkles weakened expressions of her once beautiful face.
“Do you recall something specific about the place?”
It was on her insistence that we had driven down several miles to visit her village.
“Yes. It was only your Grandpa, who kept cycling on this circle to get a glimpse of me.”
“And it ended happily… with all of us added to the circle.”
We’d found a story to justify aching muscles after a long drive.
Creative Experiments and More 
p.s. I like your new profile pic.
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It is the same one.
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There is always a story to be told. One of God’s gifts to us, the power of stories. This is a good one.
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Thank you, Lisa! In childhood, we almost thought our grandmother was from another planet, as she spoke of a different era and culture.
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Circle of life 🙂
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True that ☺
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Nice description, and I liked your use of circles, the literal circle around which Grandpa cycled, and the family circle.
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I like how you interpreted it. Thanks a ton, Penny!
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A worthwhile trip that evoked happy memories. Delightful Reena.
Here’s mine!
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Thank you, Keith!
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A special place for Grandma. A lovely story.
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Thank you, James!
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I liked the reasoning behind the placement of the benches
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Thank you, Neil!
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