She woke up, her clothes drenched in sweat. She caressed her humid hair, it was all still there. She then rolled her hand on the side of her bed, on which she found none.
She was waiting for him to get ready, lingering her eyes on some knickknacks around – porcelain elephants, old grocery tickets, pens from work.
By the time he came back with a different shirt on, he noticed the shelves being much tidier.
Her tiny fingertip painted in glossy nail polish, scratched at the top after having pushed his cousin Kevin on the seesaw for the whole afternoon.
“Sit down, have some juice”
The satin shirt of her mother rolled up to the elbows when cutting turkey breast, revealing a modern watch and a tiny butterfly inked on her wrist, dating back to when she was old enough to get drunk, but not enough to get a tattooist working on her without her parents’ consent.
She was struggling to grasp the straw with her mouth only, without making use of her hands.
“A…C…Ace” repeated the kid.
“What’s cool, dear?” joked her mum.
The kid ignored that word she didn’t know, focusing on the sequence of letters she was following with her index on the bottle of juice.
Every other letter. Her face wrinkled in a smile of pride.
That was it!
She could not wait to share that exciting discovery with her mum and her cousin Kevin.