Nancy devoured her third cup of coffee as she stared into the void, she had been staring for a couple of hours at the box puzzles her son had left on the floor. The pieces lying unassembled were an allegory of her topsy-turvy life. She put water on to boil on the stove to make more coffee, shuffled through the house shuffling her feet and caressing one of the weathered walls with the fingers of her hand. She peeked out the front door to see if she could see him coming, the empty street gave her a bad feeling.
The sky was cloud cover, it would rain soon and she would be stuck without being able to go out to look for him. Her son Frank had disappeared a couple of days ago, it wasn't the first time he had done it, but no one gets used to uncertainty, it irritated her. Every time Frank left and reappeared a few days later as if nothing had happened, it was a losing battle for her.
She realized the coffee was ready when the house was flooded with the smell of roasted beans, Nancy loved this, because she didn't notice the smell of dirt that normally perfumed her house. She poured herself another cup as she thought, Frank was exactly like the father, every time she looked at her little boy she saw in him the old drunken blacksmith who had stolen her youth, she hated him for that, for reminding her of the happy, beautiful woman she never was and never would be. So she allowed herself to punish him severely for small faults, squeezing his small body made her feel alive, she didn't always want to hit him, sometimes she just let herself go, Nancy was not well, a runaway train lived inside her.
Anxiously she spilled the coffee on her legs, she angrily reneged as she pounded on the wall. Nancy was very superstitious, she was convinced that someone had cast a bad spell on her and her family, that's why nothing went right for her. This was her way of consoling herself, as she felt less responsible for her repeated mistakes. In the middle of the outburst, an idea came into her head, the tool shed, she ran out of the house, the bad feeling was getting more and more intense, it was already night a lamppost flashing lit the street. He headed for the shed about 30 yards away, he pushes the door hard, inside the dark interior was Frank curled up on the floor.
The boy looked at her shyly and immediately smiled, Nancy repudiated those demonstrations of cynicism, cursed inheritance of the progenitor, but deep down she could not help but feel relieved. She looked at him coldly and ordered him to go to the house, they walked together under the rain that began to fall softly, Frank took Nancy's hand, he squeezed it tightly. They both knew that when they crossed the door of the house she would beat him to silence the voices of her failure, he would not cry to frustrate her attempts to harm him and take revenge on her. Then they would sit together in the kitchen and have a cup of coffee, pretending to forget what happened, until next time.
Original content by the author.
Resources: Tablet ZTE E10Q
Own illustration
Translated with Deepl.com
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