THIRTY – THREE
“We are going to visit your grandma today,” mother told me when I got down the stairs. I was fixing my messy ponytail, keeping the curly wisps of hair away from my face. There were sweat beads around my forehead and I wiped them, removing every piece of dust underneath my bed. It was nearing New Year and my mother still believed in the superstition that cleaning before another year comes would bring us good luck. It was a belief still practiced until now. I was already done cleaning, wiping my hands on my shorts. “Why?” I asked. Mother was already finished dusting the shelves and sweeping the kitchen floor. My body was exhausted and I was hungry. My stomach growled. “Because your father said so,” she answered. She did not elaborate further and I did not ask her to. I changed my house
- Writer
