She died today. Or yesterday maybe. Or a few months ago, I don’t know. My condolences.
As I was waking up, it came to me why the bully has been seeming annoyed when we asked for a breather. He says our home is at the museum. Maybe. But at least he should have offered his condolences. I’m not interested in his case.
It was seven o’clock in the morning when I showed up in a suit and tie and smart shoes. His office was filled with sunlight barely softened by a flimsy curtain. He seemed to be very tired. I sat down while staring at him. He didn’t say anything for a minute while the keyboard, which hadn’t let up the whole time, was still tapping out the last few sentences of what he was saying. He didn’t ask me anything, but he told a lot things. Then after a long silence, he looked at me closely with a little sadness in his bearded face. In a low and fatherly voice he said “I have never seen a soul as hardened as yours. The assholes who have come before me have always wept at the sight of this image of suffering". I was about to say that that was precisely because they were assholes. But then I realized, in a different way, I was one too.
I turned my head towards the window, and looked outside. The sky was already filled with light, but I could barely see a twinkle of humanity in there.