I get home after a long walk into the busy city centre and open the door to find the interior smelling of damp musk. I close the door behind me and go to check the phone for any voicemail messages, again there was none.
Clicking the kettle on i stand and watch as it comes to boil, before pouring the water into a mug containing a teabag. A cup of tea always reminded me of a Hindu tradition my family once taught me. The story goes that if a person is given a cup of tea that has been brewing for a long time by their parents when they meet the persons proposed partner, then they approve, if the brew is short, then they do not.
I tried it with my daughter, but she left with the Irish man, and Elina blamed me for the loss of her only child.
I carried my tea to the couch and sat down to begin the nights TV.
Sweet Animosity is the home for all projects and writings undertaken by Dhalia.