Dinner with Oma

A family of food in memorandum

I step into the cold, grey box

water drips dow the walls, starting it’s journey in the roof but never quite making it to the floor

it freezes somewhere along the way

making icicle artwork that no one will enjoy.

“We have green, red or blue” he shouts from somewhere down the back

what do you want mijn lieve?

I want all three but I am shy and grateful and excited, too excited.

I stare at the grey concrete floor, eyes scrunched tightly closed

wishing for anything, hoping he will not take my shyness as rudeness

an icypole.

I step into the shadowy, patterned hallway

Sulfur crested cockatoo stares menacingly down at me from the wall

he cannot screech but his gaze holds meaning enough

The brocade patterned wall starts chiming

Dong, Dong, Dong, Dong, Dong, Dong, Dong,Dong,

revealing ornate timber cuckoo clock that was almost swallowed by the patterned wall

but has now made itself known with its call.

Dong.

welkom heten. Kiss kiss.

Mijn Oma begroet mijn mama en papa

Dong.

We step into another room

more patterned than the last.

red and black swirling carpet swallows our footsteps

velvet brown armchairs sit silently with brown patterned settee

Silently I stare at the table laden with cheese, roggebrood, pickle and steaming dumpling soup

but my eyes flicker longingly to the ornate glass jar hidden in the timber and glass depths of the sideboard

the lolly jar.

 

 

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About eatmystreet

Join in the joie de vivre.
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