Sunday, June 2, 2019
A Bond between Sisters :: Personal Narrative
A Bond between SistersThe kitchen is sweltering, like everywhere else in the house, so the ice melts pronto as I drop it into the pitcher of freshly brewed mint tea. A fly buzzes around my head, and I try not to flinch as I pour five glasses of the light green liquid. One is for dad, who is in the garden picking tomatoes, another for mom who is diligently preparing for tomorrows birth twenty-four hour period party, and one is for my youngest child Rachel who is running around the neighborhood with her dog. I take a sip from one of the remaining cups and carry the last to my other sister, Anna. Though I start not heard from her in hours, I know she will be sitting in the same position I last saw her reclined on the porch chair, feet rested on the railing, and mind deeply lost in her newest science fiction or fantasy novel. Anna, would you like some tea, I offer as the screen door slams behind me. She doesnt move. Anna, I try again, this time touching her shoulder with my elbow. She turns her chin towards me, but her eyes continue scanning the page until she has reached an subdue stopping point. She lifts her slightly glazed, hazel eyes towards mine, unwilling to disengage from the world created by Anthony Piers or Terry Brooks. The corners of her mouth curl upwards, eyes slightly make a face from the bright sunlight, and she reaches out her empty hand, decorated with an intricate henna design, to grasp the sweating glass of tea. My sister and parents have settled on henna as an acceptable form of body art, as opposed to piercings, tattoos, or even hair dye. My sisters artistic talents and desire to decorate herself have been evident since she was little when she longed for the day she could wear the makeup that mom donned every Sunday. One morning, my sisters desire and daring five-year-old spirit got the better of her, and she snuck a tube of bright red lipstick to church. Our develop was mortified, but most of the congregation thought it amusing to see A nnas crimson lips. Annas artistic side has manifested itself in many other ways. She carried a sketchbook, making drawings of the discordant churches we visited, our family, or the creatures in her imagination. In her late elementary school years, Anna discovered the joy of using beads to make jewelry.
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