July

Behind the big brown door, a table sat quietly. A black little dining table with four legs and a glinting pale glass mounted on a jagged marble floor. She didn’t need a light in her room for the bulb in the kitchen next room illuminated; brimming every bit of its light to the dark corners of the table.

The black smoke hauled up the chimney as it tried engulfing and pushing away the particles through the other side.

Summer was the season. The temperature was rising by every second as the sun smiled wider peeping at the blue Earth when the grey clouds subsided. The grasses were greenish yellow, the flowers bloomed and bore the fruits. The trees danced when the wind whooshed through the leaves, the garden seemed lively for they were coming home.

Unbroken; the doorbell rang thrice. Reema stopped on her steps, turned the knob of the gas stove to the left and stormed out of the kitchen to get the door all the while flashing her most brilliant smile.

Reema grinned as she unlatched the door. The time had finally come. The time when the family get together once in a year, talk about anything in the universe from politics to black hole to the annoying neighbours as the moments would unfold. July; the month of love. Smiles and laughter would fill the dinner table with the occasional spilling of food and water. It starts on the 1st of July and ends on the 31st with Reema’s eyes welling up. The smallest daughter would make faces at the revelation of the food after she runs to the dining table, jumping onto the chair. “Spicy chicken and hot water? What do you take me for Reema ba?” the little girl scolds. Reema always loved the bickering and the scolding the little girl would throw at her. She raised both the daughters since they were born. How many years had that been? 18? 19? Her heart was heavy and she cried for nights when they left the town never to come back again. The house had learnt to embrace the indelible silence but could Reema?

She always waited for July to knock on the door.