The sibyl chants as she winnows paddy in my courtyard. She tosses the grain in the bamboo tray repeatedly into the air until all the chaff blows away.
“Here, I’ve sifted out his anger,” she says and lays the rice in my lap. “He’s coming back.”
A familiar double rap on the door. My son with ten days’ stubble on his face rushes in.
Lovely piece .
What a unique idea! So many parents would pay for this magic. 🙂
Welcoming a son back is heartwarming.
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