Peanuts

Whenever I smell
roasted peanuts
it is at grandpa's in December
and I am sitting on the floor
Cracking and smashing
the salty shells of peanuts

The cracking fire lights the room,
and the laughter from a nights play
echos through the house

But this is not my story
My story is a fatal eastward trip
Grandfather suffering in pain
Quick and simple
Death
The end of school
The bell rings
getting the bad news