Create your own heaven! that’s what my grandmother used to tell me. She sat on the edge of the bed in the room near the entrance, the room with the sunniest mornings, the room of my childhood bedtime stories, with the candle lit all the time and the jars with fleshy pieces of aloe in the full process of maceration. I took the powder from the shelf, opened it and looked fascinated at the fine texture of the compact powder. It’s as old as forever, she told me, and every gentle wrinkle of hers smiled at me. She was the gentlest woman in my entire world.
