littlewhitemouse
Aux pouvre, said the spidery recipe, and I had to face with another sigh the fact that my grandmother's language was still completely inaccessible to me. It had been a source of sadness for me, to some time, that I could not communicate with my mother's recently European family, but had to silently watch them across the kitchen table, hands wrapped around cooling mint tea, as they whispered indecipherable sentences to each other in a hush, eyeing me from the side.