“Hurry up, granddaughter, we wouldn’t want our guests to find us unprepared,” Aifa’s grandmother commented, more to assuage her own tension than anything else. Everything had been prepared, cleaned, shined to a blinding polish, planned to the last detail. “Today is a big day, you know, the time when the door between life and death is left ajar, so we can rejoice in our departed loved ones’ presence once again.”
“How would I know if they are here, doyenne?” Aifa asked, a little confused.
“Oh, you will know, child. When they arrive, without a doubt, you will know. Where are the sweets?” she asked, worried again, only to notice that the table had been properly set and everything was already on it.
