Journal of Transnational Literature

A REMINISCENCE It was a pleasant afternoon of spring; the cool breeze was blowing, causing the whispering of leaves, so melodious to hear. The funky beds of roses were full of nectar, no less than a heaven for the insects of the seasons. The fragrance was enriching the soul. My son and I were in the back garden for a routine promenade. I was talking with him about the beauties of nature, especially for the days of childhood. Suddenly I gazed towards a small thing, a reminiscence. My eyes were stopped on her. It was the beauty queen of my childhood, sitting carelessly on the velvety fragrant rose flower, sipping its nectar to her fill, spreading her black-dotted and golden-domed body on the scarlet untouched bed. I was overjoyed and interrupted her in her luxurious manner and shouted as if some treasure were regained. Look! Look! Look! (It was an amalgamation of fascination and excitement.) Truly unexplained. What? Where? Azmeer replied with surprise. Look!...