That afternoon, she walks into the house for the first time. It's dim. The ceiling light shone weakly. A thick curtain covered the window. "Good afternoon", they exchanged greetings. She saw a mahjong table in the center of the room. Books, papers, folders, a pencil case covered the green table. Instinctively, she walked over and took a seat beside her student. Question after question of mathematics filled the stale afternoon air. "Do you understand?" "Yes, I do", the student always replies, albeit with a blank expression. That blank expression that fills the face of the dazed, the uninterested, the blur. The mother puts on a surgical mask and gloves and begins wiping down the room. Every spot is kissed by the cloth gently. No area is missed. It's strange. A musky scent filled the house, the corners are dark, the walls black with years of neglect, the sofa peeling from mistreatment. Yet, the mother is prideful in her job that afternoon.
Comments