Kitchen
Mother ambles in the living room of my flat:
Left-to-right;
Right-to-left.
My flat seems bigger.
I sit by my work-from-home makeshift desk (also my dining table). As she passes by, I watch her lips move but I gaze at my laptop. My resume half complete, I type, Experrrr..
I fidget with the keyboard for 10 seconds before I walk towards her.
I ask, What is it?
She
says, I am talking to your aunt and detailing the Kakarkaya recipe. I love it.
I pause..
look around in my empty flat.
I sigh.
Point towards the kitchen.
And pick out the vegetables for us.
Work from
home
Bottle guard is now
redolent
with my deceased
aunty

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