Just Close Enough

I find myself missing the dark green pillow from my grandparents house. The circular one with the scalloped edges, that I would place at a perfect angle on the floor to sit on when I watched cartoons.
It had to be just far enough so they wouldn’t scold me for hurting my eyes “you can’t sit too close to the TV,” but just close enough for me to get away with being immersed in the experience of Dexter’s Lab or Scooby-Doo.
It was the perfect spot and pillow for me to sit on when my mom would have tea with her mom and they would chat about their days, their near-identical voices blending into a comforting background. They always had so much to say to each other, so much love, and I always felt as though I were a part of it, sitting so close on my green pillow yet not so close that I would miss an episode of Sailor Moon.

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