Although he had heard of his mother, from the kitchen to his room, he had to wait for the word, which looked like the deceptive image of a falling glass to remain intact in the few seconds before it shattered, to come out of his stillness until it struck him and took on meaning. The familiar rush and excitement in her mother's voice crashed into the self-awareness that separated the two women, as if the words had sprung from this split and rained down on her like bits of paper cut by someone bored while listening. She looked in the mirror hoping to see a few that seemed to be stuck in her hair, then proceeded to open the closet to choose one of her outfits.
The relevance of choices to thinking explained what freedom was not, even though reason found temporary relief where it landed. So the person who listened to his mother's advice had already stood up and started to fulfill his duty seriously. That person turned the wooden handle of the walnut cabinet with his hand a few times to replace it. The nail seemed to have crossed the line already reserved for it, eroding its socket over time. She thought of her mother as she took off the gray judge collar shirt, which was hidden between her floral blouse and her black velor dress.
Although she had heard many words about intangible distances between one person and another, a few memories came as if she wanted to be a part of it. Black pencils, ice cream on order, a wedding and births. What should he say to his mother's whispering to his aunt on the last night they arrived? Well, is it that her mother, who had to watch the birth of the woman she gave birth to a pale, shapeless and unattractive woman, who, even if it was luck, witnessed that conversation, like a spectator who was not allowed to sit on anyone else, did not stay out of her room for days or did she stop looking for a job? Was he very upset?
Then there was a click from the closet, she. When she opened her door, she realized that she had just hung up her shirt hanger. When he saw the nail on the ground, he wasn't sure where the sound was coming from. He took the shirt off the bed and held it over it, the coldness of the fabric making him shudder. "One of the things my mother didn't know was that out of respect for my existence, I'm embarrassed to be stylish," she muttered.
She lay down on the bed, her body soon fell asleep, and she had her turn, like everyone else. How quickly did they come when the bell rang, she said to herself. She wasn't sure if she had said that in a dream, She got up quickly and clung to herself. At that moment, something flashed in her hair, and she went to bed. She pretended to comb her hair with her fingers, and a hairpin fell shining in her palm.