I miss the good old days, of bell-bottoms and 3-inches Japanese slippers.I miss running around my house compound with not a care to the world. I miss hearing the sound of crickets and the 'bai roti' clanging his bell to sell bread and tid-bits.
Most of all I miss the delectable aroma coming from Mak's kitchen. And I miss scampering out of the house and putting my arms around Ayah's legs upon hearing his roaring scooter signaling that he's back from work. I simply miss the good old days.
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