“Yes, mom, you have to promise!” The little boy pushed.
“Okay. Okay. I promise. Tonight, let’s have some fancy food and go to some place for fun. Now go back to your room and do some homework.”
The boys withdrew from her sight. She smiled, for the fi rst time in recent days. As she had almost become a workaholic, she too longed for a change of air. Her husband hadn’t come back since that evening, which meant she could just run to the market or the vendors across the street, grab anything for two or three days, maybe even more at a time, without looking up at the sky or noticing a face or anything around her. What was more, years of doing the same job had taught her to squeeze time for what was more important. She would only do dishes when there were none left, and rest only when the pain was unendurable.