Your warm kiss woke me, and I embraced you as the night’s sleep left me. We prepared ourselves for our journey miles away. I travelled miles and miles with you. We stopped the car to view our beautiful skyline and mountainsides. I walked in the refreshing sea water, and you looked on and smiled. We wondered what our beloved dog was doing at home with its two-master travelling to a new city.
You so often cuddled my head in your loving arms and allowed me to sleep. You kissed me on my head. I knew then your presence will never leave me as I helped you over the rocky patches of grass to enter the place where we were to witness the union of another child of yours.
When bedtime came you hushed me to bed. I did my ritual kisses and hug. You blew your kisses into the palms of my cupped hands. I closed my kiss and kept my hands close to my chest.
When you were no longer there, I walked around empty as a drum. When she came to our home, this foreign being unkind and uncaring, her husband said he knew how you were doing.
I sat and ate my dry brown bread silently. I drank my coffee and rolled another slice of your dry brown bread in the palm of my hand. Two fried chops, two fried eggs and buttered toast they ate. The smell entered my nose and travelled with speed to my stomach. I knew that this was not for me.
I walked out of the back door silently. The fresh morning air carried your kiss and gently brushed my cheek. The loneliness of your kiss overwhelmed me, dear mother.
Read – Déjà Vu – A Flash Fiction by Muoghalu Britney, Nigeria
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