This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for my whole life. Countless hours spent watching mother play with all her girlfriends and now it was my turn. I would make her proud.Â
My finger twitched, as it always did whenever I was about to make a mistake. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasnât my time. I could feel motherâs eyes rolling waiting for me to complete my turn.
I could hear the other women, my motherâs dearest and ruthless friends, snigger to each other. Knowing theyâve won.Â
Then I slammed my tile on the table.
As the tile struck the table, an eerie silence gripped the room. My heart raced, and self-doubt momentarily clouded my mind. But then, a chorus of gasps disrupted the stillness. The word I had assembled drew a triumphant smile from my mother. Her whispered, "Well done, dear," filled me with pride. The smirks on her friends' faces dissolved into disbelief.
Buoyed by newfound confidence, I pressed on, crafting words that left them dumbfounded. Momentum shifted in my favor, and with every play, mother's pride swelled. When the final tile found its place, I emerged victorious, earning my place among my mother's formidable circle of friends.