Stretch

For 12 years, the first classes in school were just an extension of my night sleep. At 7:30 in the morning, my somnolent brain definitely was not ready to grasp what the teacher said. My eyelids felt heavy; my arm was weak to support my weighty head. Despite having been up for more than an hour, my entire being was still stuck in some incredible dream. Sometimes I wonder how more ready for the day I would have felt if I started school the way my parents did during the communism – with a 20-minute energetic stretch out in the schoolyard.

Cranberries

Red sticky juice sluggishly drips down my chin, branching into thin, vein-like channels, while the tips of my fingers enjoy newly acquired rubicund caps. My mouth opens invitingly to devour yet another pellet of this magical fruit, the unfamiliar mix of sweetness and tartness teasing the taste buds of my tongue. Reveling in every bit of my new food experience, I eat slowly to prolong the heavenly effect of the ambrosia. Contrastingly, mom pulls a face every time a tiny red ball disappears in her mouth; eventually she resorts to a glass of water. I inherit her share of cranberries.