My Grandfather’s Carving: Second Story from the Portuguese

My Grandfather’s Carving




Didacus Ramos


(best read with Coffee Liqueur—maybe straight scotch and Double Chocolate pound cake)


“Ill drive,” she said.  I got in on the passenger side.  “Push the seat back.  The boys sit in the back and I use that seat as my office.  Oh, sorry for the mess.”  She was embarrassed—but not enough to refuse me the ride.


“No problem.  I’ll put it in the back.”


“Where to?  Arby’s?”


“No.  This is for your birthday…Let’s go down to Subway.”  She smirks.  I know she’s impressed with my debonair style.


Subway shares a row of shops—Subway at one end, a rug shop, an office, a tanning salon and Ted’s Grill.  We park in the middle of the strip.  She crosses past me walking toward Subway.  I grab her hand and pull her in the opposite direction.  I could feel her hand shiver, her eyes dart around—who saw that?


Read the rest of the story here:


Didacus Ramos is a native of the blue-collar small-town of Hayward, California and has created a collection of stories loosely based on his own family, friends, and childhood. He may be reached by leaving a comment or dropping him a line here:

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