The next morning was the same. The person in my dream however, wasn't there. Instead, a small house was standing. It was stuck in my head. Bricky, brown, small.. Like the neighbours houses but small.
I was still interrupted however, by my mother who called me and told me to clean the entire house: another painful day.
As i cleaned the kitchen counter, scrubbing the small specks thats always been there but my parents pointed out, i heard my mother talk sweet to my older sister, stroking her hair.
'Anjali, beti..' she began, 'theres new neighbours today and their our guests and your father wants you to make your deserts and sweets.. Your food is very delicious, you know' she persuaded.
I wouldnt say my sisters stupid or anything.. She is smart, even top of her class when she graduated, but she is easily convinced by small compliments.
And so she began her cooking. My sister loved cooking. For her GCSEs, she got a grade 9 in food studies and sometimes she would just make so many deserts for everyone, to the point my father would say 'Anjali,.. bas karo' with how much food she would make, making me laugh.
Soon after the painful hours of cleaning, i went upstairs and continued to write my book, slowly closing my eyes for only abit..
I was suddenly woken up by the sudden sound of beeping and talking outside and seeing out the window my sister, i knew that these 'new neighbours' had come. I let loose of the thick tied hair and let it loose, fixed my face and clothes, trying to make it seem like i hadnt fallen asleep before walking to the front garden.
I saw a thin, middle aged woman in a kameez, a dupatta wrapped around her shoulder to her hips, as well as a pump old man, with a thick mustache. I greeted them. They werent as bad. I thought they were some snobby people but they werent.
That was when i saw him..
