things you said at the kitchen table. @hcaminus
i. The filtered light that falls through the spaces in between the trees leave scattered crescent shaped light on her open palms. The solar eclipse, the rare natural phenomenon that everyone spoke of was finally happening but despite what explanations the scientist may give, she knows that the crescent light is but a gift from the sun goddess, a way to welcome her lover home
ii. Hyuna’s fragrance is that of incense, herbs, and other things familiar. Sohee’s grandfather used to offer incense at an alter of an unknown woman, to a queen whose name has long been forgotten yet would still one day raise from the ashes, or that’s how the story was told before they sat together in silence.
Her grandfather’s memories are the flame that sparks the fire, she understands that these memories are not her own but when she looks at the red of Hyuna’s lips and the curve of her smile she quickly learns the meaning of endless devotion. “He isn’t here, Hyuna.” ― and why all her grandfather’s dreams end in flames. “He’s gone but you already knew that didn’t you?”
iii. It’s a rarity for Sohee to be considerate of another person. It’s even rarer for her to let them in without question. “I’m sure that the last time you were here it wasn’t anything like this.” Sohee says, walking into the kitchen where the plants on the counter have become invasive and there’s a fine layer of dust and soot on every flat surface. As Hyuna takes a seat at the table, Sohee pushes vines off the stove and the surrounding counters to make room for the paper bag of food she bought from the convenient store down the street.
“He hasn’t lived here in years.” Sohee wipes everything clean with a dry towel. “No one has lived here in years, except for me.” She looks over her shoulder at Hyuna who is both quiet and observant of her surroundings, she is certain that the other woman has been here before. It’s odd how seamlessly Hyuna settles in, like she always been here and it’s Sohee who is the stranger in this house.
iv. The thought makes Sohee look away, returning to the task at hand and finishes rinsing out the dirty kettle before filling it with clean water then puts it on the stove to boil. “I’ve never been good at growing things.” She keeps by the counter, thinking about how the plants are reminiscent of her grandfather and liking the idea that his magic is still within this house keeping the plants alive. “It isn’t a secret that everything that I touch dies eventually...”
v. “I think you look pretty when you smile.” Is the first thing Sohee says after she prepares the tea, placing a cup in front of Hyuna alongside a plate of apple slices and oranges. When she does sit down, she pulls her knees close to hug them to her chest and gets a good look at the woman that is across the table from her.
The silence between them sits heavily like humidity that makes their shirts stick like a second skin. The temperature is abnormal for a day on the edge of winter yet she doesn’t mind a bit and she repeats words that she’s certain Hyuna has heard before in this kitchen long ago and from another person.
“You’re always prettiest in the morning.”