How long have you known? She holds you tight, pinches the back of your jacket, pulls you in as close as she can, whispers, Oh Shivu, he just…
she knows about it
How long have you known? She holds you tight, pinches the back of your jacket, pulls you in as close as she can, whispers, Oh Shivu, he just…
she knows about it
F” by the front door. It stands for family, Dad had said
ironic, dad is not good family member
almost grown
naïve, not mature yet
You’re grown when you pull back into the driveway at the house
he matured, gained some kind of knowledge, less naive
really, truly see — the bags under her eyes, the first time you count, one, two, three creases, deep and black and worn
Something is bothering her, maybe for a long time?
doesn’t look at you because her head’s down, her face obscured by the steam of the mint pulao from the cooker
She does the cooking, is trying to hide in the steam, maybe trying to distract herself with the cooking
You’re
2nd person, makes it feel more personal