A Quiet Place

Water boiled gently on the stove top, the aroma of Jasmine rice filling the kitchen. Rain lightly hit the kitchen window, dull sunlight glimmering on the floor.

The woman at the sink rinsed a dinner plate, the water swirling the suds down the drain. She placed the wet plate on the drying mat, leaning back to look at the timer on the stove.

She dried her hands, pouring Olive Oil in a skillet to heat. She retrieved the marinating beef strips from the fridge, shaking excess sauce before laying the strips to sizzle. She covered the rice to allow it to steam, glancing up at the digital clock on the microwave.

A clash of thunder made her jolt, followed by a flash of lightning. She scowled at the storm outside the window before returning to the drying mat to dry the plates and silverware.

The beef stopped sizzling as she was setting the table, placing ice-filled glasses next to the now dry plates.

She flipped the strips, the sizzling renewing with gusto. She glanced at the clock again. Any minute now they would be coming through the front door in a swirl chaotic noise and motion.

She chuckled lightly at the thought, her heart and soul filling with heavenly light.

The buzzer on the stove went off; she removed the pot of rice to an unused eye, leaving the lid on. She checked the strips, just a little more and they would be done.

She heard the crunch of tires, then three doors closing following by the sound of pounding feet.

The front door flew open, her two kids rushed through the door laughing and talking loudly, the dog between them barking and jumping in excitement. Her husband followed behind them, their bookbags on his shoulders.

A wide smile split her face, “Dinner will be ready shortly, go clean up.” The kids took off for the bathroom, the dog skidding after them.

Her husband smiled at her, hanging the bags on the hooks by the doors before coming to wrap her in a hug.

“We are home baby.”