“Give me your hand!”
I barely heard her over
the din of the shopkeepers, but my fingers effortlessly found the comfortable,
warm, and secure hand of my mother. We had just entered the Market Avenue, the
most famous market in Kansas City.
Needless to say, I was
excited. I had been repeatedly assured that I would love the city. But, I’d
barely been allowed to set forth outside the house since we moved here. In our
old city, my dad would usually take us out. But, he was travelling on business,
and I wished he was here to experience Kansas with me.
“Stay close. Keep
holding my hand,” mum alerted. It was a busy market, and I was amazed by the hustle
and bustle before my eyes. Mum’s grip tightened. “Stay with me,” she said, her
command tinged with concern and worry. I nodded.
The market was new to
me, and was I to it. I could hear the booming voices of various salesmen,
calling out bargains and offers; but, given my height, all I could see were
pairs of legs directly in front of me. We walked forward, but kept getting
squished by others, their smelly sweat acting as a lubricant for smooth go
through. Stinky body odour disgusted me, but I could also smell the
intoxicating aromas of food roasting nearby.
Feeling hungry, I
slowly turned towards my mother, calling out “Ma…”. I couldn't finish the
sentence, an icy shiver running down my spine. “Mom! Mom!” I shouted. I scanned
the faces of everybody around me, retracing steps to the best of my ability,
all in vain. Was I lost?
Tears were now rolling down
my cheeks. But nobody came forward to wipe them. I frantically circled the
areas we had passed, searching for the familiar yellow dress. I kept it up for
an hour, losing hope, and desperation increasing by the minute. I sat on the footpath,
bawling. People passed by, but nobody heard me. But then, almost on instinct, I
looked up, and saw the familiar yellow dress down the road. Ecstatic with joy,
I started to run towards her, but she stared right through me, turned around,
and walked away, becoming one with the crowd.
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