Fifty
The kettle made an annoying whistling sound. I grimaced at the sound dropping the empty glass into the sink. Amatullah switched off the burning gas. I glanced at her before opening the faucet. Water gushed at a very high speed into the glass. The feeling of the water on my skin was cool and calming. I rinsed the cup then placed it inside the drainer. When I turned back, Amatullah had already poured the hot water into a mug. She opened the tin milk, scooped three spoons into the water and stirred. She proceeded to open the tin of Milo, scooped five spoons into the water and stirred. Gently, she lifted the mug to her lips. Her eyes closed as she devoured the taste in her tongue. "You are missing" she beamed opening as eyes as she placed the cup back on the marble top. She closed the milk an
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