Weekend Freewrite 2/3/2018 (The Several-Prompt Approach by @mariannewest)

Image by: Christine Carter

My mother was doing that thing she did. That thing with the rag in the sink. My mom is so meticulous. She wants to make sure that after washing the dishes, the surrounding area should be wiped dry.

My brother and I grew up with a housemaid. However, my mom would keep telling us that she is just going to help us around the house - which meant that we should do most of the chores at home.

I was always assigned to wash the dishes. I was taught how at an early age of 5. Being monitored by my mom as I do the chore, I was trained to maintain the cleanliness of the kitchen - making sure it's dry after using it. She used to tell me to also wash the rag after wiping the surrounding area. It was a lot of work for me. I used to move so slow, I usually took so long to finish the chores in the kitchen.

I always wanted to find reasons not to wash dishes. Until, I found an escape. My dad decided that I should go with my grandmother to attend to my aunt's graduate studies' commencement exercise. It was going to be my first plane ride. It was exciting for me. We were supposed to leave after lunch. But, I needed to wash the dishes. It was so frustrating. Good thing the housemaid helped. And finally, we left.

The plane was two hours late. I felt disappointed because I was so excited to experience my first plane ride. My grandmother was praying for our safe flight. I couldn't talk to her. I had no one else to talk to. I didn't want to roam around the airport in fear of getting lost. Mobile phones weren't a thing of that time yet.

Until I decided to just look around and see things that could be interesting. There was a television but I couldn't hear it. The volume wasn't loud enough for us to hear. Then I saw this man. He was seated 2 meters away from us.

It was so interesting the way he writes with both his left and right hand. I secretly wished I could do it. I walked behind him to see how his penmanship was like when he's writing with both hands.

He wasn't just writing. He was sketching. He drew the airport. And it was so amazing. When he noticed me, he just smiled.