“I am going to get cable from that house,” were the words of my Father that shone like a lighthouse for my ship-wrecked heart, lost in the fog of nostalgia. It had been over a week since we left that house. The house that had always been a home. A motherly home I could not live without.
We moved into this home when I was barely seven. The lark of my imagination had soared in its maternal atmosphere. A place that embodied a jovial time of my life in the cohesive bonds of its concrete. A place that, at the end of the day, used to draw me in its warm motherly embrace and I, like a puppy, curled myself in its lap to be pet.
“This house needs to be sold.” Covid-19 had taken a toll on business. We were to shift back to the ancestral house where Father had spent his childhood and youth.
After some convincing, Father unwillingly let me sit behind him on the motorcycle. Throughout the bumpy ride via narrow potholed alleys, my heart felt swelling with delight yet oozing with pain. I entered the home with a faint smile as if to cheer up a friend on her deathbed whom I had come to visit, perhaps the last time. Silence howled through the acidic void, welcoming me in a mournful dirge. The scribbles on the walls recounted the history of my evolution.
The saline ocean of tears brought in waves of recollections to the shore of my memory. I saw myself dancing my heart out in the garage, oblivious of the secretly peering eyes of my family. I saw us cousins having a sleepover on the roof in damp stifling summers but running down earlier in the morn, for the fear of feral drosophilas. I beheld kaleidoscopes, engineered out of memories as the home drew me in its embrace.
It was the last time it embraced me. I wanted Father to sell his ancestral house but perhaps, perhaps in such times, everyone wants to be at home…

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    Eden Pela
    Eden Pela(@eden-pela)
    3 years ago

    Your story is extremely beautiful. I was very intrigued by your words. Keep it up. You have my vote.

    Katerina Bizirtsaki
    Katerina Bizirtsaki(@katerina-bizirtsaki)
    3 years ago

    Such a beautiful story! The author did an amazing job. I wish you good luck in this competition.

    Sandra James
    Sandra James(@sandra-james)
    3 years ago

    I love your description and ‘kaleidoscopic embrace’ is perfect to express that colourful rush of memories flooding back. Well done, Zainab!

    musing mind
    musing mind(@musing-mind)
    3 years ago

    I like your description of nostalgia for your long lived home. I can relate to it.

    Susan Dawson
    Susan Dawson(@susan-dawson)
    2 years ago

    The words in your story interplay and shimmer like the glorious illustration that accompanies it.

    Eric Radcliffe
    Eric Radcliffe(@eric-radcliffe)
    2 years ago

    Hello Zainab, you carried me with you through all of your happy and sad memories of home. This virus has been the heartache of so many and I enjoyed the way you told your story.

    Lotchie Carmelo
    Lotchie Carmelo(@lotchie-carmelo)
    2 years ago

    Your words are so intriguing. And I was carried away in all your memories.

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