Floaters

A non-clinical vignette. Have you seen the spider webs?

"Ryan, would you grab that spiderweb?"  My grandmother said abruptly.  We were sitting on an old bench overlooking the Susquehanna River.  It was September.  I had sprung her from the assisted living home earlier that day.

"Which spiderweb are you talking about, Gram?" I asked her.  My eyes were sleepily watching the timeless flow of the big river, the eddies and swirls along the banks, and the gracefully bending boughs of the old oak trees as they waltzed with the wind.

"There to the left!"  she said with certainty, reaching her bony hand into the sky and grasping at thin air.  "Get it, will you Ryan?"

I looked again but there was nothing.  I knew that my grandmother's mind had developed a little static among the signals, a few crackling wires in the electric grid of her brain, and I figured that her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"I don't see it, Gram.  What does it look like?"

She seemed a little disappointed that I did not share her perception.  "It's feathery, and it's drifting just…