Writers’ Journal #138 – Fried Potato – 22

For the next few days, life went about the same usual for Malee and the rest, albeit sense of doom and despair on everyone’s faces. As the day to master’s return got closer, Malee noted that some servants became more active and less noisy than usual. Michael and his father worked almost the whole day in the garden, watering and planting new flowers constantly. There were also much more clothes to wash and hang for Malee. Even George wasn’t as cheerful as before, to which Malee put it down to news of his sister coming back along with the master.

Writers’ Journal #136 – Fried Potato – 20

Malee left the room as quickly as the mistress ordered her to fetch Mary and soon caught up with her closing the door of the professor’s car. Mary looked at Malee, was nearly out-of-breath and wondered what had happened. Malee informed her of the request from the mistress to come back as soon as she caught her breath, and both of them ran up the stairs to the young master’s room. They entered the room as the mistress was still admiring the drawing and quickly made a bow.

Writers’ Journal #134 – Fried Potato – 18

George said the word second time as he stared at the drawing coming to life in front of him. Malee was too engrossed in the action to notice George eyes looking at her hands with amazement. She was supposed to be worse than him, but it was not going the way he had expected when he asked her to take his place in front of the board. The night market wasn’t the same as the printed photo, but he could see the people moving, smoke rising from the snacks being prepared and the street lamps. At least, he could recognize the location and the scene.

Writers’ Journal #133 – Fried Potato – 17

George walked to the table and picked up a slice of strawberry cake as Malee took his place in front of the drawing board. He couldn’t care less how she would draw it, but knowing she had attended any formal education a few years back, he doubted it would become out any better than his. He sat down on the chair and extended his hand towards a new beer bottle till Mary gave him a stern look. He gave a cheeky smile back and retracted his hand. Mary was his biological mother’s personal care taker and had been taking care of him since he was a baby. No matter how much she behaved in front of the other servants in the house, she was not afraid of him.