He was tall for his age

Or so she thought

Blue eyes in the shape of almonds

Rare but seen before
Brown skin not black

Not white either

Curly hair, soft to touch

All dark with shades of sun
Confident he pushed open the door

Scanning the room

Catching my eye

Then looking away
Jeans and t-shirt

Maybe a bit warm for out here

I caught the sweat on his forehead

As he approached the counter
“Excuse me please

Do you know Mrs Smith?”

He paused, looking

Searching in my eyes
“What’s your business with her?

Who are you?

What do you want?”

Alarm rose in my voice
“I’m her son

She hasn’t met me yet

You see I was taken away

When I was young”
I stopped

Looked hard

Examined him closely

I could not believe
“I know who you are”

I touched his hand

Tears welled in my eyes

“You’ve come home”