Not too many thoughts today but while taking a trip on the bus this story came to be.

So here is a short story or the beginning of a longer one.

…………………………………….

In the sweltering heat, my sister and I stick to each other like the mango juice on our kitchen countertops. Cuddled together, unwittingly, on a queen bed in the middle of Brooklyn.

Though the heat is not from the humidity back home or due to the summer season. The heat is from the makeshift sun that clanks in the corner of our room, in our aunt’s house, in a neighborhood that is thought to be undesirable.

For the most part, my kin and I resemble two praying mantises. Not in stature, however, since most of the women in our tree leaned short. Moreso in the way that our aunt would always ask “ou te manje?” [you ate?].

With exception of our hips that flooded jeans. In a way that someone who wasn’t of our complexion would claim was crass.
Nonetheless, we found it normal, the many shapes that women we knew who looked a bit deeper in color took on.

The broiler-like room we slept in would sometimes break me out of my slumber. Where I’d stay wide eyed, staring at ceilings yet to be buttered, thinking of a maybe future.

Wide eyed and nauseous at such a sadistic thought, a new day.

fin, for now.

happiest Saturday.