I sat on a chair in the dining room, the room was half-lit with the light that came in from the flashlights of the several chandeliers that rested above my head.
The only sounds that could be heard were those of clanging forks and knives that embraced the porcelain plate.
I was on time for dinner, and seconds later, I had watched that trail into the dining room.
The only thing we agreed on was a mutual greeting in which I was the first to start with, and he either responded with a nod or simply with a humming sound.
I didn't let that bother me a lot because at least, we weren't quarreling and he wouldn't hit me if I don't provoke him.
Today, we had a whole baked chicken and potatoes, complimented with a cheese sauce. I liked the meal, it was great and the chicken tasted great.
Growing up, I always wondered what mom's meal would have tasted if I ever had the opportunity to eat it. Like, will she even cook after been a luna? would my life even had been better if she was around?