It's Wednesday.
Today school ends at noon. A girl in my class asked me to come over to her place. I am not sure if her mom knows. Can I just go over there? We walk the way to her house. She knows the way and I follow her. I never saw a mom like hers. She wears a bikini and her hair is tied up. I think she forgot to comb it. Perhaps she was in bed. My mother sleeps at day time if she had to work at night.
Francoise's mom is kind. She asks if we want an omelet and we sit at a bar and wait. I am not sure she can cook. What a strange thing to eat for dinner. I watch how she makes it.
She stirs some milk with the egg and it's the best omelet I ever ate.
I feel nervous and do not dare to stay too long. My mother will be angry. I don't think she will like a mom in bikini's. What if she knows they all use the same water in the bath tub and same toothbrush? Francoise told me as she showed me her bedroom. Her dad isn't home. Her mom looks happy.
I walk back home alone. It's not far I can walk but I am afraid I get lost. For some reason I always get lost. I can not remember where I live. All houses look the same, exactly the same. They are new built.
I feel as miserable as at the time I had to walk back home from kindergarten. I knew how to cross the road, walked through the park, took the endless long road straight ahead and didn't remember what next. I just stood there. Was I lost? I think I cried or perhaps I just stood there and felt like crying.
At that time there was a kind woman who brought me back home. She new where I lived because I told her who my mother was. Now I am older, the road back isn't that far but I have never been here and there's no one I can ask for help.
June 10, 2020
What a narrative, i hope you can now the difference between your house and others though they look the same, or is it different now