Tamannaah Bhatia

His skin was a smooth reddish brown, like the skins of certain cherries, and his eyes were a clear ocean blue. His hair was as dark as it possibly could have been, and it was pulled back into a tail, with loose strands framing his face. There was a tiny sapphire stud in his lower lip, which caught her gaze and held it. ‘Are you Kizzi?’ he asked. His voice was rich and deep, like dark chocolate flowing from his throat. Speechless, she nodded. ‘May I step inside?’ he inquired, already stepping inside. Marco was still barking furiously, but the stranger put a hand on his big shaggy head, and the dog instantly quieted. Finding her voice, Kizzi asked, ‘Um, who are you?’ He smiled and laughed, an amazing melodic sound, that made her think of sweet peppers. ‘Who am I?’ he repeated. ‘I am a man of a place forgotten to the world. I am a man of a place who has never known the luxury of satellite television, or microwave ovens, nor have we needed it. I am a man who has traveled a very long. She worked out regularly and looked ten years younger than her age, but she was his mother. He knew he’d have to answer, she was waiting with a look on her face that he imagined all husband’s dread when asked the dreaded ‘does this make me look fat’ question. He’d have to be careful, he thought to himself. ‘Gee, mom…isn’t it a little skimpy? What’s wrong with your regular suite?’ She smiled again and thought to herself, ‘clever boy’, as she took the page back from him. ‘Oh, no, that old thing will never do. In fact, I think I may go out and buy a whole new wardrobe.’ ‘Ahh….,’ he stammered. ‘Won’t that be expensive? I mean dad just died, won’t that mean your finances will take a hit or did he leave you something?’ She paused and looked at him seriously for a moment. ‘Oh, you heard about his death, I was hoping to break the news to you gently. You know in a way I am sad, because we shared so much. There are many things I have never told you about your father. What do you remember?’ .
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