Night shift

Sunday lunch

My mother's plov. The spoon is in it because I could not wait.

Sunday lunch at my mother's, after Qurbana. She cooked since the morning, the way she does it, with my aunts stirring the plov in turns. I fell asleep sitting up at the table with my head against the wall, and my mother put a blanket on me and told everyone not to wake the doctor. That was the best moment of my year so far.