I wish it was as simple to recharge a car’s battery as we recharge ourselves with sleep, going on vacations, or doing things we like. My car on the other end, in my home country, rests jacked up on bricks.
Last November, I went back for three months, but extended my stay further for two more months. I needed my car immediately for running errands. The first thing I did was to buy a new battery instead of recharging the old one. My thrifty older brother wanted me to take the battery to a shop for recharging. It couldn’t be done.
I had already given it away to my downstairs’ tenant’s servant to sell it for himself. He was happy to gain a few bucks.
When I was coming back, my driver unplugged the new battery from the car. I didn’t know I would be visiting again after seven months, otherwise I wouldn’t have given it to my brother. I will have to buy a new one now, as I have to go for a month, or two to tackle problems waiting for me back home.
I have left the key of my car in Houston with my son. I don’t have to face any worries concerning this car. My son can deal with them if any arises. Masha’Allah! One load of my mind.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Every summer my younger brother, and I would be sent to spend our summer vacation with uncle A, and his family. This changed into been sent to grandma in my teen years. At uncle’s home, my cousin Z, and I spent hours talking, playing together with dolls, Badminton, or board games.
One day Z, and I were sitting on the steps of the back verandah, when she produced a cigarette. It was already lit. She offered it to me to smoke it. I had never smoked it before. I felt it was wrong, so I refused.
She took two, three drags of it, and asked me again. I refused while she started making fun of me calling me a frightened chick. She kept badgering me. I took it from her, and inhaled the smoke. My coughing wouldn’t stop while Z stomped on the cigarette to hide the evidence as to what she was doing.
Those few moments were surreal, as if it was happening to someone else.
That was the one, and only time I touched a cigarette. I always wonder how people who are addicted to smoking can do this to themselves.
What’s the most surreal experience you’ve ever had?
Daily Prompt: Snapshot Stories
Open the first photo album you can find — real or virtual, your call — and stop at the first picture of yourself you see there. Tell us the story of that photo.
This photo is of me. I am standing outside my grandson Sn’s school. It was taken by my son, last year in May.
All of us had gone to the graduating, and award ceremony. 2013 was Sn’s last year at middle school. After summer vacation, he started high school.