What made this one the last birthday party at home?
It takes many people to make an heirloom.
Colouring your hair.
Walking through memories of places that no longer are.
“Soup?” He repeated it like my dad did, when he meant, ‘You want me to believe that?’
“Ek hot and sour chicken soup,” J ordered.
“Soup?” The lady echoed
It was pitch dark. The first few steps and my foot banged a table. Ouch! A lighter flashed in that light.
It was one of those restaurants that service both families and men who enjoy a drink.
Memories tumble into words.
A memory nestles in me.