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| photo courtesy:sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com |
Ayesha walked in cautiously, the house looked like a massive, mysterious
maze. Looking around and at the carpeted floor, she followed it to the kitchen.
Standing there, a memory flashed through her head; a messy, buzzing kitchen.
Vegetables and spices strewn about, a pot simmering on the stove. Her mum
wiping her brow, bending over the pot, stirring the ladle. She and her brother
playing in a corner, the wafting smell teasing their hungry tummies.
In contrast, this kitchen looked immaculate, almost
surreal. Did they really cook here? The colour coordinated kitchen looked
listless, as though craving for a reason to come alive. The small breakfast table on the side, stood poised for company even
when not expecting any.
Hearing some noise, she walked over to the lounge. She found herself
facing a room full of people, nobody she recognised. Seeing her, they erupted
in cheer. The man who had followed her in, led her toward a woman who puts her
arms around her. Someone whispered, “A family, finally”.
Her eyes were drawn to a set of teddy bears in a corner. That is how
they must look, she thought - an Asian child with her new Caucasian parents.
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