BC A Morning in My Life – Min Min

By Min Min

My face lit up as dawn broke, the morning sun flooded through my window and covered my sheets in a warm yellow. My head was lying at the top of the bed frame, my hair lying above my head. Under, was a soft white carpet stuck underneath the bed.

My eyes cracked ajar as my mom shouted up the stairs. Her voice bounced off the wall of my bedroom. My limbs were weak, and my movements were sluggish. I pulled the duvet off my body with my feet. I shuffled out of bed swinging my legs across, my mind dazed. I followed my mom’s voice down the stairs as a yawn escaped my mouth.

Downstairs River was barking at the kitchen counters. Beside her my mom was at the stove humming along to the radio, tapping her shoes on the floor.

As I came around the corner of the doorway I noticed the table was set with silver cutlery lined with an old napkin .The plates were white with black streaks, matching with the bowls. My mom greeted me promptly holding a pan in her hand. She moved the steaming poached eggs onto her plate before over to mine.

I swiftly sat down behind the plate the scent of fresh eggs swirling through the air. It was surprisingly warm despite the draughty doors.

I tapped my feet on the cold tiles while cutting the egg into segments. Rich yellow yolk seeped out, I scooped it up with a toasted piece of brown bread. My mom and I sat opposite each other every two or three bites looking up and creating conversation.

The time passed quickly, just as finished I gazed up at the clock. 8:12 it read. Quickly, I sat up and thanked my mom for the food. I turned the corner of the kitchen and wandered into the bathroom. My bathroom was long rather than wide, the bathtub lining the wall and making it difficult to walk through. Beside the door was a decent looking sink with brown, rusted pipes beneath it. The tiles were a creamy white with a ragged rug in the middle.

I reached out for my purple toothbrush grabbing the toothpaste as well. I swiftly swept a smooth amount of paste onto the brush. I placed it under the tap before turning it off. As swift as I could I ran the brush around my teeth. Before running it under once again and placing it back in the cup where it was once before.

My legs moved up the stairs and through the door to my backroom.  In the bottom left corner there was a dark brown desk with 6 hair ties varying in size. I grabbed the wand of the brush and roughly waded it through my thick hair. Running into knots and matted hair, I held the chunk of hair with a tight grip.

All of the sensations are engaged by this sunshine yellow account of a routine but comforting morning. The warm yellow sun is paired with the “rich yellow yolk” of the poached eggs. The love and companionship of mother and child is captured in careful details. They mirror each other in gesture and intent at the table, while the child’s feet tap in an echo of the mother’s tapping shoes. Charming!