Lunar arts

With our estate house standing at four storeys, the dining area was situated on the ground floor.

As I descended the stairs with Aunty Gloria following closely behind me, I couldn't help but feel enveloped in an atmosphere of opulence and grandeur.

The estate house, boosting lofty ceilings and a majestic spiral staircase, showcased exceptional craftsmanship and expertise in its design and construction.

My heels clicked against the marble-tiled floors as I made my way to the dining area on the first floor.

The soft glow of the chandelier above illuminated the room, casting a warm light on the polished wooden table and everything in the area.

Amidst the enticing aromas of diverse cuisines, a subtle yet distinctive oud incense scent wafted through the air, enveloping the space with its rich, woody fragrance, adding a depth and warmth to the surroundings.

As I approached the area, the sounds of lively conversation and clinking silverware filled the air.

With Aunty Gloria's steady presence behind me, I felt safeguarded, like having an unwavering sentinel at my back.

The aesthetics exuded refined sophistication, as the room embodied a masterclass in well-proportioned luxury.

With its sumptuous rich-wood panelling, and plush furnishings, the space harmoniously balanced opulence and warmth.

And then, of course, there was the food—a lavish spread of dishes that seemed to cater to every possible taste and craving.

My stomach growled in anticipation as I walked further.

Suddenly, my father's eyes locked onto mine, and time seemed to freeze, bringing an eternal silence that lasted a mere minute.

I felt rooted to the spot, my feet fixed to the marble floor, my heels digging into its cold surface.

Yes, torrents of emotions surged through my mind.

Taking in his warm smile, gentle eyes, and familiar haircut, I was struck by the depth of my longing.

In that instant, I couldn't deny how much I had missed him—the tender touch of his hand, the comfort of his embrace, and the sense of security he brought.

No words were needed; the air was thick with unspoken emotions.

He rose from his seat, his eyes locked on mine, his expression a poignant mix of sobriety and apology.

The weight of our unspoken words hung between us, a palpable reminder of the distance we had traversed, a distance that now existed between us both.

As he walked towards me, the room seemed to face into the background, leaving only the two of us suspended in time.

I could feel Aunty Gloria's presence behind me, but even she seemed to recede into the shadows, allowing my father and me to have the moment to ourselves.

His eyes never left mine, and I could see the depth of emotion swirling in them.

He stopped in front of me, his hands reaching out, and I felt a lump form in my throat as he enveloped me in a tight, warm embrace.

The familiar scent of his cologne and the comforting feel of his arms around me brought back a flood of memories, and I couldn't help but tear up.

We stood there for a moment, holding each other, the silence between us speaking volumes.

Just when I thought the silence would stretch on forever, with only the sound of our hearts beating in unison breaking the stillness, a soft, enchanting melody drifted from behind me, gentle notes of a zither floating through the air, weaving a sonic tapestry that seemed to harmonise our emotions.

But before I could fully absorb the serenity of the moment, a deep, baritone voice resonated from the dining area, shattering my reverie.

It was then that I realised I had been so captivated by the reunion with my father that I had forgotten the subtle sounds of conversation and clinking plates that had accompanied my entrance.

My dad had a guest, possibly a friend, but it was the melodious, baritone voice that truly caught my attention, making me pause and acknowledge, 'Oh, someone's here!'

As my eyes met the stranger's, I was enveloped in the warmth and kindness of his gaze, and my apprehensions dissolved.

Seated at the far end of the table, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his rich, sonorous baritone voice filling the air with warmth.

Every element seemed carefully curated to create an ambiance of serenity: the hug, a nostalgic embrace; the zither's gentle sounds, a peaceful melody; and the stranger's baritone voice, a harmonious blend of inner peace and love.

In this symphony of warmth, my heart began to heal, its rhythms soothing my soul.

Seconds slipped away unnoticed, yet swift, as I attempted to disengage from the eternal hug.

My dad released me, and just as we parted, the room plunged into darkness. Instantly, he shielded me, ready to face whatever had gone wrong.

But in the same moment, the room lit up again, bathed in the soft glow of a miniature moon.

Recognizing its significance, his grip relaxed, and we both watched in wonder.

The stranger's baritone voice and the zither's gentle sounds continued uninterrupted, weaving a sonic tapestry around us.

Entranced by the lunar display and musical arts, I forgot about Aunty Gloria's presence.

After a while, the darkness returned, enveloping us once more in its mysterious embrace.

But this time, we weren't afraid; instead, we were spellbound by the sudden appearance of tens of smaller moons, which materialised mere seconds later.

Their dainty forms twirled and leaped in a graceful celestial ballet, harmonising with the larger moon in a mesmerising display of lunar elegance.

The lunar ensemble twirled and swayed in a hypnotic dance, their gentle glow illuminating the darkness with an ethereal light.

Their display reminded me of the silvery necklace on my neck, and I was drawn to it.

To my surprise, the gems glowed weakly, as if orchestrating the moons' dance steps.

Their soft glow was overpowered by the lunar display, and I didn't notice the gentle light cast on my jaw.

My gaze shifted to my dad, who wore a helpless, gratifying smile, seemingly caught by surprise with the magnitude of the spectacle.

Shifting my gaze back to the moons rotating in a mesmerising orchestra, I suddenly felt a weak link to them.

With that thought in mind, I sprang into motion, attempting to grasp and hold on to that link, to move the moons.

As I stretched out my hand, palm upwards, an electric thrill coursed through my veins.

The weak link transformed into a tangible thread, like an invisible tether, binding me to the moons. I focused my thoughts, willing the moons to respond to my presence.

To my wonder, the miniature moons began to swirl around me, their gentle dance becoming a vibrant, whirling vortex.

The stranger's baritone voice swelled, harmonising with the zither's melody, and I felt the music coursing through me, amplifying my connection to the moons.

Suddenly, the musical notes faded into the background, leaving me alone with the moons.

But as if someone said, 'Now the party's over,' the darkness melted, replaced by the soft glow of the chandelier and other light sources.

With that motion, the moons darted away, only to abruptly change course and hurtle towards me.

I was surprised, having thought our connection was broken.

Without warning, they merged into a single form and collided with me, delivering a soft impact.