...y dark blue eyes, and surveyed my surroundings. My pitch black long curly hair was down to my back. It wasn’t too long, you just wouldn’t consider it to be short.
“Grandma?” I called out, wishing to hear her old, welcoming voice that always calmed my nerves.
“In here, child.” She called, from a few feet away. I walked forth, blinded by the darkness and entered the clearing of our houses backyard. There, she sat, right by the campfire and she was staring into the flames; almost hypnotized looking.
I ran to her and hugged her for dear life . She softly stroked my soft hair with her leathery ones. Her pale old woman’s hands usually frightened me, but this time, they comforted me. We looked a lot alike. She, too, had pitch black hair that was long. The only thing was hers was really long. About twice as long as mine. She was petite and seemed to grow shorter. I was average height. She had the same blue eyes, but hers were lighter.
She chuckled into my little ear, “Were you scared, little one?” I quickly nodded. “Would you like to hear a story from your grandma Flossi?”
I smiled and nodded. I walked around the large fire and onto the other side. I sat down, cross legged on the soft grass and waited for her to tell me it.
She cleared her throat, and began:
“Long ago, when the trees and dirt were f...