Aurora 2025 with cover

Aliyah Orten

bed, so her granddaughters felt like royalty. another year, she switched her theme to appease her only grandson. camouflage was everywhere, on the walls and all. looking back at moments like this, I find even more comfort in the way my family has tried to make everyone feel at home. the land my grandparents inhabit is never quiet. even when it may seem as though there is no sound, the silence is warm and natural. if you listen closely, you can hear my grandmother hum as she looks outside with a coffee in hand or my grandfather brewing a new pot of coffee, knowing that his wife will soon need her cup filled. he always knows that she won’t say no for more. when we were not outside, creating our own fantasy lands, I would sit at my grandmother’s piano and create my own sheet music. I had no idea what I was doing, and I am positive they both prayed for the melody to end soon, but I found great joy and pride to create something I thought was beautiful to them. seeing my song connect to their fridge with a magnet was a prize. after a while, with the piano being used scarcely, it moved to the middle bedroom. I would find myself as an adult just staring at it, remembering those moments, and wishing I took learning it seriously enough to fulfill the cycle. recently, the piano has moved back into the main room. this movement probably didn’t mean much more than getting it away from young great-grandchildren,

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