10 years. Time has flown by so swiftly. Yet strange! Nothing’s changed – the smell that earth emanates, soothing blue of the sky, tossing of trees, chirping of birds and that house down the road.
Except that mother isn’t seated on the porch waiting for me anymore. Father isn’t there to ask what took me so long. That bicycle propped against the wall is too small for me now. And my once home is now only a piece of concrete.
Days of past flash before my eyes as a smell, queerly familiar to my senses, wafts in. Doesn’t it smell like mother?
Written by Chirasree Bose for 100 Word Wednesday: Week 74