Oasis

Sometimes, you find yourself eating at a fast-food chain on a Friday night. Y
ou don't mind how late, but you are going to have your lunch.

You look around. You think someone should be sitting opposite you.
You ignore the thought and think about "5 weeks and 6 days".

She must have planned it. Having another kid could not be taken lightly after everything.
But that's her, you tell yourself.

You notice the ID you are wearing. You've worn it proudly for the past 7 years. You scoff at yourself, thinking that, at least, she has done something she has willed.

You remember how, once, you wanted to go to the remotest villages of the north, learn how organic vegetables are grown, and enjoy the peace and quiet in the mountains.
You've done nothing for it.

Tomorrow, you think, I will start with the whites then the colors. Spinning them should not take two hours. After, I'll dust the fan and wait for Monday.

You finish your late lunch and, quickly, you assure yourself, it's not too late to live that other dream. I have time.

You wonder if she is going to ask you for a name for the little one inside her. But you can only think of cabbage to grow in that little village up the mountain.

It has been a long 7 years.