A Not So Typical Afternoon
Around half-past one in the afternoon, my mother pulled me into the house. She lifted me up slowly with all her strength—yes, I was heavy. She made me sit in the nearest chair. Then she rushed to the kitchen and returned with a glass of chilled water—much required for a hot and humid outdoor. "How did all this happen? There are bruises on your legs, knees, arms, and shoulders! Did you get into a fight with someone? I don't think you would do something like that. Just tell me what happened!" She was confused, shocked, and, above all, worried. I had not reserved any energy to talk and had exhausted everything on the way back cycling. I simply lifted my index finger and pointed to the television. She understood something serious had happened and switched on a local news channel. "There was a blast? A blast in the petrol pump near Governor House? (A brief pause) That looks intense! Thank God you didn't suffer anything serious. Let me bring some bandages. I will tie t...