I stand up because I have to move.
My legs want to run, but most of all
I feel my insides swirling,
full of words,
maybe all the words
I’ve kept inside for the past few months
suddenly desperate to get out.
I want to talk about Malia,
about missing Jordan,
Mom.
I pace around the shop, my words spilling out,
and my grandfather laughs trying to keep up
with everything I’m saying.
Etan! He stands up.
You feel good? Yes?
I nod. He grabs my shoulders, looks me in the eyes.
Grandpa, what did you do?