Fifty seven

The house with french windows is arrayed with pots of Peony and croton plants on the terrace top. I sit in the chair, gazing at how the May flowering tree has covered half of the house. Birds grew smaller as they flew over buildings afar. Cute boy comes out from the house next, looks either sides and returns into rooms that are unrevealed. The black spectacles he’s got on makes him look a lot more smarter, I think as his hairy dog stands with it’s hands up in the veranda for the second time since I’ve been sitting here.
I get down to my room, through the stairs messed with old clothes and luggage bags. In the bed jumbled with wet towel, a pair of earphones and other things, I make myself some space. I lift my feet up to polish my nails with light blue from the bottle that I had picked from the box of accessories in the wadrobe. It had been a long time, it needed another coat and I was going to go out with my friends. I always picked light colours. While growing up, I’d look for silver, as I watched the sister in Palthaje house paint her long nails in her small airy room. She had small round bottles of them, mostly in Silver. The other sisters would borrow from her. I can’t recall if my mother owned one. She would be okay with any colour as far as it made sure that it covered her nails from rotting, something she inherited from her mother. Something that I noticed with my own nails as I painted them with one of the colours so light.

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