Picture taken from Pinterest
We’ve been told at school to draw and colour our family. I’ve thought of asking my parents for some help with the instructions but, as of lately, they just look sad and gloomy, they never want to be bothered. Mum’s always late from the evening shift at the factory, while dad keeps himself shut in his room, a beer in one hand, the remote control in the other, a blank stare fixed on the TV set. My brother Gabriel is just a baby and aunt Julia is a thousand miles west of us. At dinner though, there’s always fuss around Politics. Mum and dad complain that things are getting out of hand; they don’t know where it will all end with the New Regime. I struggle to keep up with their adult stuff, so I’ve taken a long story short: made a nice drawing of our last reunion and coloured it green.
I hope to get it right this time.
Teacher Agnes gave me an A+ in the activity. Said I was to be moved to another classroom –with the chosen ones–. I told mum straightaway, thinking she’d feel so proud of me. Instead, she blushed and started to weep. Had I known it before, I’d have chosen my favourite red crayon.