Warmth

I used to spend the summer with my brother at our grandmother’s house, who used to live out of the city.
In the evening she would light the fire and start preparing dinner.
I can remember me, my brother, the warmth of the fire, and the sounds of pots and bowls coming from the other room. Sometimes grandma would sing too.
It feels all so distant now, but it is all that comes in my mind when I think of home.