A CUP OF SUGAR
As corona virus continues its rampant spread of disease and distress, this sunlit day, in a defiant mood, resolute and restless, I step outside my home to take a walk around my neighborhood.
This morning the street shines under a radiant blue mantle; however, the long street is still. A soft breeze caresses the lustrous asphalt, and there is not one soul outside.
I hear the melodious chant of waves; there is a vast and vibrant sea just beyond the street, the waves slap on the sand in a joyous ramp, but there is no one to hear its chant.
On my left, alone and still, a resplendent house sits in the midst of a verdant yard; the coquette white fence is barred... At its side, however, lies a rectangular handwritten sign that seems to shout: "WELCOME TO OUR HOME." My heart jumps in delight, and all of a sudden, the world becomes right.
I feel that the sign is a personal invitation to me to step in....
" My imagination ignores the heavy brown door sealed under a massive bronze lock, and I see myself been greeted by a gracious lady in a thick pink robe and lazy curlers in her white hair, she would take me to a sunny kitchen with rose pink wallpaper, and to sit at a table with a ruffled jade color mantle, and in the air, the exquisite aroma of just-baked blueberry muffins.
For a while, I relish the memory of old neighborhoods, when houses and hearts were easy to reach, just like extending our hand to our next-door neighbor, and borrowing a cup of sugar, in a freelance smile. ..
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