Dina Dominguez
Living in a 2 million dollar home, Granny, short for Grenneth, was on the 11th floor of her
residence, knitting it up beside the clouds. She was flopped in the corner in her bright lime green
rocking chair. The 10-foot window facing her, and a shelf no smaller than the Titanic behind her.
It was filled with tons of heels. Green heels, purple heels, kitten heels, stilettos, platform
nine-inchers, and even pepper steppers. Grenneth was a sweet old lady. She sat in her bright
green rocking chair every morning, working on small sweaters for homeless dogs. To everyone
in the neighborhood, she was this sweet old lady who helped street dogs combat the winter with
fuzzy knitted sweaters, but what the neighborhood didn’t know was that Grenneth got down.
Even though she was 86, she still knew how to have fun. She spent her days pondering and
knitting in her bright lime-green rocking chair alongside the clouds, but by night, she was at the
club partying it up in her nine-inch bright Barbie pink heels.