Mudcakes

We held hands and tiptoed into the kitchen tiny giggles and "shhhh" bounced around in hushed tones We cut ourselves another slice of the cake in the fridge It was covered but perfectly accessible This time we cut a tiny bit bigger. They'll never know And they didn't. We told them years later A sweet mix into a nostalgic conversation "Hurry up before Mom catches you." "Grandma won't catch me" I said I had done this last time after all I scooped a few spoonfuls of sugar and tiptoed hastily outside "I Got it! You can have some if you want." I chirped with pride "No...I'm using flowers instead." "Alright, suit yourself" We walked to the side of the house to go under it. The house sat on a hill. The front was unlevelled It stood tall on four pillars and the back was flat, Creating a vast space under the house. We crouched under to sit and began to mix our mud cakes. I poured water in And more dirt as I pleased Then when I was satisfied I poured in my sugar. I poured the mud mixture on flat slabs of broken Tiles we dug out from the rich soil that served as its bed “I’m putting my flowers in the middle “ “I’m putting mine on the side” We pressed it gently into the circular shaped mud. Sitting back we let out a satisfied hum “It’s done!” Thanks for reading Aliyah’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. I wrote this poem for a reflective class project, at the time I was struggling with which memories to turn into a story, this one constantly played out in my mind. We were little girls making magic from the mundane. Our house was our castle and we were the sculptors no one knew about, our mischief is where we flourished. I hold these memories like golden rays of sun that turned gold. Growing up is quite the journey, but I’m never too old to take my frequent trips, to memory lane. With love, to grandma whose home was a magical garden full of possibilities and Tiana - you were always a sister long before I knew it. I hope you guys enjoyed! I know alot of feels this thing called nostalgia quiet often. For me it can be a thing of aching sadness or a joyful treasure I can hold unto forever. I hope this piece helps you dig out some memories that moves you and brings you life. Thanks for reading Aliyah’s Substack! This post is public so feel free to share it. Thank you for being here, your support means everything to me. I am so grateful for it. Feel free to say hi! or leave your thoughts or your stories below. I would love to hear from you. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit aliyahmiller.substack.com