Her grandchildren ignored her when they came to visit. They took up all the room on the sole couch in front of the television, leaving her to sit in the chair right beside it with no clear view of whatever was on. They stared at the glowing box, mindlessly flipping through the channels, waiting for dinner, waiting for the weekend to end. She could tell they were bored but didn't mind. Their very presence was reward enough.
She was so alone. Her only companion was that television. She'd sit in front of it day and night, often unaware of the very show she was watching. The volume and moving pictures provided an illusion of activity that rounded the sharp edges of her loneliness.
From her seat on the chair she could see a reflection of the television screen in the glass panels of the china hutch. The reflected images were transposed but she could still make out the picture.
She quietly watched a show about animals while she watched her grandchildren.
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