Standing on my toes,
Trying to peek over the counter,
I can barely see.
But I hear the whistle of the kettle
Boiling on the stove,
And the clink of the spoon
Against the mug,
And the shuffle of the cupboards
Open and close.
And then, and then
There it is…
The sweet chocolate wafting through the air
Warm and cozy
Like my mother’s hand caressing my cheek,
A hint of earthy undertones
Like the dirt from her garden under her nails,
And the fruity fragrance of juicy oranges,
Like the scent of my mother herself.
© Jade M. Wong
When I read the prompt, the first thing I thought of was a specific kind of hot chocolate made from milo that my mother used to mix for me as a child. To this day, it’s my favorite kind of hot chocolate.