This was written in response to Writing 101: Size Matters. I managed to vary my sentence length between 8 and 20 words. Hopefully this range is enough to get me the twist for this prompt. 🙂
As a child, I spent more time in Mom’s plant nursery than at the apartment where we slept.
Mom taught me about each of the plants she grew. She would quiz me on the properties of each plant. When I turned twelve, she finally allowed me to help plant the seeds.
Plants were the only thing Mom shared about her childhood. Mom never talked about her parents unless she was also talking about her beloved plants.
While I learned that a love of plants runs in the family, I was never taught my grandparents’ names. I can’t even say if they are still alive or where they might live.
I use to imagine who they were. Sometimes I would pretend that my grandparents were scientists who developed new plants in the middle of the Amazon rainforest. At other times, my grandparents made medicines from the rare and exotic plants in their greenhouses.
Most times, I imagined that my grandparents grew the same plants Mom and I did. As I would water the tender shoots, I would pretend my grandparents were watering their plants alongside me.
I may not have known Mom’s childhood home, but in my imagination it was the same as mine; a warm, wonderful greenhouse.
A.P.'s Quill 