the time we have

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: March 23, 2020

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Submitted: March 23, 2020

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”Sir, Why don’t I give you a sample?”

Mama stops me and starts opening her purse.

I laugh and turn towards her with a sigh. “What on earth, mama. Sample of what?”

“This new, musky gentlemen´s fragrance is sale only for today. No doubt the Mrs is going to go crazy when she sniffs you coming home.”, she sings in her customer service note, and starts pushing her thumb in the air.

I don’t know whether to laugh or let my irritation flood visibly. It’s no secret that she has compulsory tradition to walk me to my train every morning since dad died. Never mind that I’m quite close to my 40th birthday. But even more reason, she should know I don’t have time for games when running for my commute.

“So what do you think, Sir? Are you one of our loyal customers or just visiting Olsen´s out of curiosity?”

Suddenly all the noise in the station seems to mute and I have flattening, weird sensation which makes my heart beat unpleasantly.

“Olsen´s? Mama, you retired from Olsen´s nine years ago. Have you started to work there again?”

Mama stops spraying imaginary cologne in the air and looks at me with a slight annoyment in her eyes. “Sir, it’s not polite to hint anything about lady´s age, but I can assure your retirement is many years closer than mine. Thank you very much! But now, how about a sniff of our other new fragrance. It’s imported directly from a beautiful island in Italy!”

I step back and start feeling everything in slow motion. I rub my forehead whilst trying to put pieces together, as I vaguely remember Auntie-Lizzie saying something earlier which irritated me. What was it? That mama didn’t recognize her first during their Christmas shopping? And I should hire mama a maid because her apartment was so messy. Hah, messy? My mama, who is the most prompt and organized lady there ever is! I thought that auntie was the one getting weird by the age.

As I look at mama´s talking lips, fuzzing about fine particles in quality colognes, I start to feel alone. Those lips which were never about nonsense, are now a revealing door to a new world of possible new condition my prescious mama might be stepping into. And she is going to without me.

Suddenly she stutters, looking something between serious and scared. “What was I saying, Peter? Quite extraordinary really. Are you going to miss your train, dear?” She shakes her head, as if getting dust out of her vision and crabs my arm.

I take a peek at timetable flapping on a wall, which informs there´s a new train approaching my peer, meaning mine has already left. “Actually, mama. Why don’t we go and sit for a scone and cupper?”

“But Peter, won’t you get late?”

“It’s not important mama. I just realized there is still some time left in our hands”


© Copyright 2020 Eeva. All rights reserved.

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