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The stop
Hannah Saal
FINAL photo the Stop.png

Ilaria Serpi

If he could pace, he would have, but his arthritic legs wouldn’t permit such movement. Instead he sat in his armchair, fretting. His eyes slipped back and forth between the front door and the clock on the mantel. 
 

‘I’m sure she’s fine, Grandpa,’ Dave said from the couch. ‘Grandma takes this walk every day.’
 

‘Exactly! And she’s late! It takes her an hour and fifteen minutes, on average. It’s almost been two!’
 

Dave wasn’t surprised that his grandfather knew exactly how long it took his grandmother to run her errands. Rickety as she was, Grandma insisted on walking down the block to the local supermarket every day and back, even if all they needed was a single banana or carton of milk. Grandma would have loved to buy bags of chips, but Grandpa was adamant on eating well. Nothing but the healthiest food was allowed in the house. She would take her walker, an empty bag for groceries hanging from the frame, and march on out. 
 

It was taking her longer today. Dave could see the worry in his grandfather’s face. What if something had happened? What if she had fallen? Been hit by a car? Had a heart attack? What if—
 

The front door creaked open. Dave was over by the door in a flash, taking the grocery bag from Grandma so she could get her walker through more easily. 
 

She smiled brightly at the two of them. Dave saw the flash of relief in his grandfather’s eyes as he approached his wife of forty-seven years. His heart warmed to see how much his grandfather still loved his grandmother.
 

‘What took you so long? We were worried sick!’
 

Dave shook his head. For all their love, Grandpa sometimes had a strange way of showing it. 
 

Grandma was unperturbed, taking off her sweater. ‘The line at the market was longer today. I’m sorry I’m later than usual.’
 

Dave could see that Grandpa wanted to argue with this. Grandma should have cut the line or just left the groceries altogether. Grumbling under his breath, he headed for their bedroom. Grandma smiled at Dave and went to the kitchen. It was almost lunchtime. 
 

Dave put the few groceries away and began to make sandwiches. When he offered to make one for his grandmother, she graciously declined. Dave was confused at that. Grandma was usually ravenous after her daily walk. She saw his confusion and, seeing that her husband was still out of the room, approached her grandson with a grin. 
 

‘The line wasn’t long,’ she whispered to him. ‘I stopped for a slice of pizza and a beer.’
 

Dave’s jaw dropped. 
 

Grandma put a finger to her lips, her eyes twinkling. ‘Our little secret?’
 

Dave grinned. He wouldn’t take his grandmother’s personal rebellion and fun from her. He went off to the bedroom to ask what Grandpa wanted on his sandwich. 

Hannah Saal is a graduate of Harvard College and The New School’s MFA Creative Writing Program. Her work has appeared in The Saturday Evening Post, Thin Air Magazine, and the 2022 National Flash Fiction Day Anthology, among others. She can be found online at hannahsaal.com

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Meet the author: Hannah Saal

an interview conducted by Otherwise fiction and non-fiction editor Niharika Pandit

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