“She’d awakened in this room countless times over the years, and nothing in it had changed as long as she could remember. Andrew—she tried to think of her husband without the shadow of sadness—had always called Granny’s decor “early Cracker Barrel.” But Glory liked the homeyness of it, the fact that Granny’s possessions had memories attached. The dresser still held a collection of tiny ceramic animal figurines from Granny’s childhood. The mirror on the wall above was streaked with gray where tim...e had worn away the silvering on the back. There was a watermelon-size brown water spot on the ceiling paper in one corner. Pap had fixed the roof twelve years ago, but Granny said the paper had plenty of life left in it, that people should have their eyes closed when lying on the bed, anyhow. There wasn’t a clock in the room, and Glory had left her watch in the bathroom after her shower last night. It was early; the sun had yet to send its bright shafts of light over the hills and into the little cove that cradled Granny’s house.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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