Whenever I visit my hometown in Spain, I always have the sensation than nothing have changed, which is good in a sense. There are some things that I have never missed, and a few that I am homesick for, but there is an special moment that I would really like to bring with me here.
The after lunch time looks frozen.
During the siesta time a ritual seems to come.
My dad reads the newspaper and fall asleep on the sofa; my brother talks by phone and surfs on the internet.
My grandma and my mum have just started.
A table cloth
Breadcrumbs, dishes, cutlery
Go to the kitchen, back to the living-room, to and fro
Dishwasher
Sun coming through windows
Aprons, sleepers
I really miss this time of the day; apparently it does not seem to have anything in particular, but finding that sensation anywhere else is not easy.
