The prayer room

It was the last day of my middle school.  I had arrived early, one of the first few.  The skies were still dark with only a hint of sunlight seeping into the new day.  The school itself was still ensconced in a rare silence. Few lights had been turned on in the hallways, no doubt by Sister A, the headmistress of the convent girl school.  I went to my class, dropped off my almost-empty school bag and walked down the side staircase.  My sleepy senses were waking up with every step I took.Read More »

Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash

Foxtrot in the kitchen

It is the most wonderful thing when a memory catches up with one unexpectedly.  Maybe it’s the balmy summer night air or maybe it’s the sight of a box of waffle ice cream cones that sat unopened on my kitchen counter top.  But, I found myself pulled into a dance that took place half a lifetime ago.Read More »

Photo by Andrew Shiau on Unsplash

The first lie I told

I was only in first grade and my mom had enrolled me in an after school English tutoring center.  You may have guessed it from reading my posts but English is not my first language.  My mom, eager to give me the best education possible, had inquired around and heard that this particular center was highly esteemed among parents.

The director of the center was a middle-aged woman who would always speak slowly and deliberately.  Never one to raise her voice, she always appeared calm and composed.  She would walk slowly too in her loose top and wide legged pants,  making meaning of each step, as if radiating the aura of a sage.  She was the recipient of the first memorable lie I ever told.Read More »