Part 1:
The white dinner table was in a disarray as I stacked the plates and cups, unsuccessful in making a tower. The sound of water hitting the dishes informs me to hurry up and join my mother to clean the dishes. I rearrange the plates and cups so that an earthquake doesn’t occur, and half jog to the kitchen.
“Mom, dinner was really good.” I said, smiling as I set the dishes down. Like a robot, my mom keeps doing the dishes, ignoring my compliment. Chinese mothers. Always wanting to do better and be better. Compliments are like revisions in their minds.
“Mom, why didn’t you eat your crab” I asked, rolling my sleeves up to prepare for the battle of dishes.
“The crab was spoiled” My mother uttered as the soap made designs on her wrists.
“No, mom, I didn’t think so” I quickly say, alarmed at the consequences of her words.
“It was spoiled” Mother insisted, almost breaking the plate as she slammed it into the dishwasher.
“I knew the crab was bad before I cooked it” My mother said, giving me a sideways stare.
“What would you have done if someone else at dinner had chosen the spoiled crab?” I asked in curiosity.
Her eyes twinkled as she turned back to the dishes, the corners of her mouth forming a smile.
“I knew you were the only other person at dinner who would have picked the bad crab because everyone else wants the best quality for himself”
The silence became my best friend as it helped me interpret my mother’s words. Setting the last dish down, she walks away, leaving me speechless and the dishes sparkling.
Part 2:
I am going to work on building up the setting in my story. I feel like I jump right in, and by building up the setting, there will be more imagery.
