CNF: Dinner

While the warmth of the fireplace filled the living room, my dad and I begin to prepare the perfect dinner. I set the rice to turn golden brown, the ingredients for the sauce smashed and thrown in to the blender. My dad mixes and pounds the powders together to set the base for the tamales.

            The table set with the traditional colors of red and green, tablecloth decorated with holly leaves and berries, porcelain plates set for five.

            I sit on the counter next to my dad occasionally asking, “You sure you don’t need help?” “No”, he responds before focusing back on the task at hand. Kicking my legs impatiently, I leave him and pick up the remote clicking each individual button until I find an adequate Christmas movie to pass the time.

            A few minutes pass by and I decide to go back to the kitchen. Empty. “Where is he?” I walk toward his bedroom and stick my head in door way. A massive lump on the bed, moving up and down with every breath taken, a motor like sound coming from the unconscious body.

             “What am I supposed to do now?”