My Great Grandma

My great grandmother is an old lady. I see her as two hundred She has lost a lot of teeth Her hair is thinning Her face looks like a quilt of the tiniest diamonds I cannot stop looking at her chin hairs. I am eight. She is the oldest thing I have ever seen. Older than trees and houses I bet. She bends her finger to me. She wants me over there. She smells like coffee. I am reluctant. “Grandma wants you” my grandma says. I go. Great grandma gets out a large book. She points to a picture. “That little girl is me,” she says. The girl looks about half my age. Now I am convinced this old woman is insane.