Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Absentmindedly, Jackie wrote her name
thereupon, watching as dust motes floated
upwards, caught in sunset's evening rays
Brushing away a tear, she turned around
surveying, Nan's neglected room
provoked, a vague feeling of emptiness
Psychically, Jackie, quite distinctly heard
"The war years seemed like only yesterday"
It was her Nan's voice. Jackie gasped aloud
"Nan, is that you"? "I'm...
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