A Small Journey
Darlene P. Campos

Grandma took me to a place I did not know.

Like the rez, it was cold and in the middle of nowhere.

She showed me her new home and baked me bread the way she used to.

Grandma left me when I was 15 and gave me the key to her house.

Take me out, she said, before I rot.

She asked if I missed her or if I missed her bread instead.

I said I missed her even though she hated my father.

And always told me I was just like him.

Grandma led me to the exit.

Like the rez, it was warm and welcoming.

I asked why I had to leave so early and she told me,

You’re not ready yet,

But I will see you soon.