Illiana sat on the floor hugging her knees against her chest looking out her attic-window. Little raindrops started falling on the surface of the glass, ‘small Messengers of rain knocking on the window’ she thought. She remembered what her friend Sumi had told her.
You may know that the Inuit have lots of names for snow; well the Koreans have over 170 names for rain. Illiana wondered if the drizzle could be described as the ‘fox-rain’ as it was the only name she remembered.
Illiana didn’t like the rain; it was, well, wet and she didn’t like wet.
Illiana tried to cuddle up even more, but she still felt cold.
“Illiana, do you want a cup of coffee, or some hot chocolate?” her mother called from downstairs.
“Hot chocolate would be great mom.” She yelled and bounded down the stairs.
Illiana nestled into the armchair, a blanket draped around her. She brushed her white hair behind her ear right ear and blew into the mug, making the little marshmallows dance around in circles. She took a sip and the sweet warmth spread through her body.
“Are you warm enough dear?” Her mother asked stroking her back softly.
“Yes, thank you mom.” She replied.
“Did you pack your bag?”
“Yes, mom I did.” She sighed, tired of being treated like a little girl.
“Just checking my dear.” Her mother smiled.
“When’s dad coming?” Illiana moaned after a while.
“You know he works very hard and he has to stay late at work sometimes.” Her mother explained.
“Sometimes? He hardly ever has time for me; he leaves in the morning and comes home late at night. I only get to see him on holidays because he has business meetings in Florida on weekends.” She complained.
Her mother frowned. Illiana felt instant guilt. She sensed she was about to be scolded. Dad-related criticism was taboo.