The night before the big event, Gitta couldn’t sleep. It was the first time, after a few months of dating, that John was introducing her to his friends. The rest of the group had been together with their partners for years, and some were even married. The girls had already known each other for a long time, while Gitta would be the outsider.
Bianca hurriedly entered August 28th into her calendar. 5:40 PM. She quickly calculated how much time she had until then: ten days. That wasn’t too bad after all, plenty of time for many things.
She couldn’t take it any longer. She couldn’t carry it anymore. She had to do it, even if he thought she was stupid for it. She wouldn’t even know. She’d send the message, and that would be it. This was about her; she didn’t want to dwell on it anymore.
Livia knew very well: people mustn't talk about emotions. First, because we expose ourselves and thus become vulnerable. Second, because no one really cares about our emotional aches. And if, on the contrary, we are bursting with happiness, we should definitely stay quiet.
"Insensitive." She found it hard to process her friend’s words. If she had to describe herself in one word, that certainly wouldn’t have been it. She would have thought of cheerful or unshakable. This “insensitive” caught her by surprise. Especially coming from someone who knew her well. Someone who loved her.
She flinched as the key turned in the lock. Finally, he had arrived! Dia put down her hairbrush and ran to meet him. By the time Máté stepped through the door, Dia was already there, arms wide open, ready to embrace him. She breathed in his scent deeply.
Boss: Hello, I am looking for the perfect Employee.
Candidate: Hello, I hope that will be me!
Olga clutched her coffee mug on the terrace, stealing glances at the cars that seemed to appear “out of nowhere” from the corner of her eye. She would have loved to lean back and stretch out, watching what she so loved to see. “What if it never comes?” Albert had already called twice to ask if she could sense it yet.
With a vanilla ice cream iced coffee in her hand, she watched her nieces from a distance as they rolled across the grass in the back of the yard, hands held above their heads. They were laughing in a bubbly way, calling out alternately to their grandmother and their father. But not to her. The children had learned: You mustn't disturb Eri while she's having coffee.
She stopped for a moment and inhaled the cool, salty evening air. The sun had just started to dip behind the hills of the neighboring island. Mira took a mental photograph of the breathtaking scene.
“It's Wednesday,” she thought, and smiled. Then she began counting to herself again.