It was mid-morning time
After breakfast, when I put the tea glasses I washed in my hand upside down on the dish counter so that the water would dry in the kitchen on the north slope of our house, which does not have a dishwasher, it instantly froze and stuck to the place where it was.
It is just new, meeting with drinking and domestic water and my fingers started to ache as if they were cut with a razor due to the painful effect of the cold water flowing from the yellow-curled faucet, I froze to myself, it is said, 'tangur clacking' hastily tidying up the kitchen to get back to the heat as soon as possible. I wanted to escape to the room with the stove.
On my back, I will never forget, a red sweater, a black collared sweater, and a black skirt above the knee.
Even though I have wool booties and puff slippers knitted by my mother on my feet, the cold that I pulled from the floor made my blood freeze, hundreds of tiny ants were walking on my skin step by step, as if biting my flesh, reaching all the way to my brain..
I had a cold in my mind and an involuntarily runny nose, which I wiped on my arm from time to time because my hands were wet, and sometimes inhaled and which I had never loved since childhood.
When I left the kitchen door shivering without delay and went to the warm room, my mother was sitting on the high floor, which was set in front of the window, made of a sofa made of wood, which we used to call cedar, and covered with back pillows with cross-stitch embroidered tops.
On the windowsill were the old-time plastic and tin pots, the pink earring flower, the bougainvillea, the purple violets...
It was mid-morning time!