The Return

We are approaching another round of celebrations - the Lunar New Year hides (or perhaps peeks) around the corner.

Festive occasions and dinners can become a source of discomfort because of the things we daren't announce.

Some failures are carried politely - or not so.

🧨😉🧧

He opened the door to his parents' home, inhaling a cautiously drawn breath. The clothes were-different. Costlier than before. His hair, neatly combed, bore successful Brylcream slicks.

His family noticed the Armanis first. "Wah. Changed job ah? Better pay?"

"So handsome."

Everything about him spoke - progress. Except his now quiet demeanor. But there were too many labels to notice.

The celebration started the way it usually did. The family collected in a gleeful group around the table for the customary Lunar New Year Lo Hei - the tossing of the raw fish salad.For renewal.

Prosperity. Customary greetings of "ma dao cheng gong" (the horse heralds prosperity) and "xin xiang shi cheng" (may your dreams come true) resounded like speeches from an upturned loudspeaker. Everyone spoke of safe things. The typical roundabouts. Crafted politeness.

The meal lapsed into stoic Chinese silence, broken only by "Ah ma, chi yi dian yu(Gran, eat some fish)."They gaps were there for him to fill with disclosure and secrets.

One sentence could have changed their perception. 

His life.

His silence never lifted.

His father glanced cursorily at him. He raised an eyebrow, scooped noodles onto his plate, and nodded.

The rest of the family paused briefly between mouthfuls of yusheng and noodles. His sister kept her head down. Her eyes became part of her bowl. 

None spoke. They kept the same rigid silence, not letting him sit with what he refused to say.

That uneasy quietness hovered in the room, looming.

🧨😉🧧

Original microfiction by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

For Mikeydred's January Challenge: