She watches her six-year-old daughter tying her brand new shoes on her own and tries to remember whether her daughter has ever focused on anything this much before. They hadn’t had the luxury of acquiring a new pair of shoes until recently.

“Is he coming, mommy?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”


“Soon, honey, very soon.”

“He didn’t come the last time…”

“I know, honey. I’m sorry. He had to work.”


“He brought you these shoes the time before.”

“Uh huh…”

“He goes away for a long time, but thinks of us all the time.”

“…We always wait for him….”

“…You like him, don’t you?”

“He’s okay. I like him if you like him.”


“…I hate waiting…”

Her daughter carries on, holding the slippery shoelace with utmost attention.



August MorgueFIle 2018 1415390688o66bl


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