Power of Memory Final Project
A Not So Lazy Sunday
Remember being little and doing something reckless? Remember never thinking before doing? Remember thinking fire was just something to play with?
By: Amani Khan
It all started one day about my sixth or seventh rotation around the sun. The day was gloomy, and the rain greeted me with its pitter patter. It all happened at the end of a long dormant weekend at my grandma’s house. The Jimmy Neutron marathon became monotonous, and Gram’s golden feline companion was dozing in front of the crackling fire.
Grams was off in the kitchen making her adored pumpkin nutmeg cookies.
When TV got boring, I started scanning all the closets, and anything else that would open, in order to find something I could play with. At first, I found some old binoculars, which didn’t really do anything, so I reopened the drawer that reeked of mothballs and gently put it back down.
Something else caught my eye. A black feather duster sitting on a box, begging for someone to frolic with it. That someone was me. Back then, I adored dusting. With a swipe of the hand, the dust vanished.
I starting pretending I was a maid, like Amelia Bedelia, gracefully twirling through the halls, across the antiques, all around the house.
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