All in Photography
I keep your hair... I keep your smell... I keep your blue-eyed smiles from the photos... I keep a flower from your grave.
I screeched myself hoarse of silent screams and calls to bring you back for one more hug.
Sneaky sun rays caress my face on a lazy Sunday morning.This is the first clear memory from my childhood – full of light and smell. The fresh tangy smell of the strained yoghurt that spills around the whole house and I know that my Sunday starts with the promise of a something special. Mama is making Tarator! Not the daily Tarator summer soup that we can make with eyes closed, but the “dry” Tarator. Ah! I can eat it with the big spoon! Straight from serving bowl...
I hear about some impending homework always at the doorsteps just as I lock the door and will drive to school...