The buttered smell of pancakes rises up my nose, and hums inside my ears.
Mum gently stirs the sugar inside the saucepan, crisping and browning.
My sister tosses and turns the fluffy treat into the thick air,
While Dad’s shaking fingers crack open the last box of eggs.
I notice a smile on his likened lips I have only seen once before.
It is warm, yet sad, as if he knows this pancake day is the last one he will share with us.
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