My Grandmother's Hands Audiobook Novels & Stories

In the distance: Luna’s Bed, bright and soft. The pup asks his grandmother: “Grandma, why does the sky touch us?” The grandmother, 100, smiles. She has 60 Sky Hands. “Because baby, a long time ago we taught the sky how to remember. And the sky learned. And then the sky wanted to learn how to help. So it grew hands.” “Will I have hands too?” “You already do,” the grandmother says. “Two on your body. And as many as you need in the sky.”

... The voice struck like lightning, silencing the hall. All eyes turned to the entrance, where an elderly man stood, leaning on a cane. Rupert Pittman stood tall, flanked by a group of bodyguards. His sharp gaze swept the room, softening with anguish when it landed on me. "Grandpa!" I cried out. Five years had aged him, his hair now fully gray, but his commanding presence hadn't dimmed. "Rupert?" Tessa gasped, the stick slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor.

Not anymore. Wherever we are feels like home in so many ways, but we are not in the same place that we were the day before. Not really. It’s like our previous world was erased. “Oh good, you’re here,” a very familiar voice calls out. Looking up, I see my grandmother. Wearing a crown of burnished gold woven between her long, gray-streaked locks, she stands proudly with an extended hand. “Come, granddaughter, we have much to share from the night before,” she motions me forward. “You too, My King, if you have the time.”

I’d been working hard on the presentation and I’d been neglecting my grandmother because of it. My grandmother had been paralyzed for years. As a result, she could only utter faint, unintelligible murmurs. I fought back tears as I used a cotton swab to moisten her cracked lips. Her hands were soft and her skin was paper thin. “It’s me, Julia,” I whispered, stroking the hair from her forehead. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by lately. But I’ve been given a great job. Isn’t that exciting? Her eyes landed on mine and I knew she would have smiled if she could.

“Master Nathaniel, your grandmother is in the drawing-room.” “Thank you,” I replied and walked away from her immediately I found Grandma sitting by the roaring fireplace, a delicate teacup in her hand. Her silver hair was meticulously styled, and she wore a soft cashmere shawl. The moment she saw me, her face lit up, a radiant smile transforming her features. It was always the same reaction, a genuine, overflowing joy, as if I were a long-lost treasure. And every time, despite my often cynical exterior, it never failed to warm me, making me feel utterly cherished.

I gripped his hand firmly. “I’m glad I did,” I said. “I’m glad you’re still here.” He squeezed my hand back. “How did you know how to do that?” he asked. “My grandmother,” I said. I could still see her, her weathered hands and those stern eyes that never really softened, even when she was helping someone. “I saw her do it once when I was very young. I didn’t understand it then, but I remembered.” Eryx nodded slowly. “You were smart to hold onto that.”

My grandmother was so gifted that even at her old age, she still had a sexy body that would make me run mad for her sake. My hands began to explore her gorgeous body as we pressed together, my hands moving further up the front of her body from behind, my fingertips coming into contact with her breasts. Oh fuck, I said to myself. They are so fucking huge! I had dreamed about this moment so many times, but it had always been just that; a dream. Now, it was really happening, I was cupping my grandmother's enormous breasts, and that soft whimper of desire told me she loved the feel of my hands on her just as much as I did.

"You know Sydney doesn't care about you half as much as I do, Grandmother." I say it with all the sweetness of a poisoned cupcake, kneeling on the plush rug in front of the old woman, my hands clasping hers. I make sure to look up at her with wide, pleading eyes—the kind that usually work on men, but this bitter old bat? She’s a different breed of stubborn. Grandmother doesn't even hesitate. She rips her hands away from mine as if my touch were a literal infection. Her withered face contorts with a disgust so potent it should be bottled and sold as an organic pesticide.

The second figure then clenched its fist and the cat disintegrated to ashes. Inside grandmother’s unit, the old lady blinked, her eyes starting to become hazy again as she struggled to hear the commotion outside. She stood up from her bed and dragged herself to the window with the aid of a walking stick. Sticking her head out, she could see nothing. The song Immanuel continued to play on rewind. She shook her head and headed back to her bed, all the while clutching her chest. For some reason, her heart felt heavy. She could not understand it but she suddenly felt as if she had lost a loved one, and a tear began to form at the corner of her eyes.

I hug her tightly, and days have been passed day by day my grandmother was getting weaker and weaker but her smile and kindness never disappear she’s lying in the bed and holding my hands She looks worried, and she touches my nose. “my cute little angel, don’t worry grandma will be strengthened soon, okay” my eyes were on verge of crying and hold her hand that’s touching my face “yes, get well soon grandma”. I hold her hands and sleep beside her. however, that night will be the last time that I will feel her warm kindness grandmother suddenly wakes me in the middle of the night