A Monday morning without her

So I woke up with my alarm clock – had totally forgotten its little music I once so carefully chose.
Opened my eyes, grabbed my phone and sighted. Gosh it feels good to have a 8 hours sleep.
Made breakfast for myself, started eating, listening to… the total silence, sprong to the bathroom before it got really boring.
Took a shower but, you know, a looong one, a true warm Monday morning shower, trying not to think about the file I was gonna work on later on (that kind of thoughts doesn’t usually make it to your mother mind on Monday morning, does it?).
Used the expensive L’Occitane verveine shower gel bought after a stay in a cosy B&B and supposed to mentally drag me back there every morning – except I never think of using it.

Calmly picked up a nice dress, accorded the jewelry and even found a pair of unripped tights.
Day cream / foundation / blush / mascara and – oh, hello you, eyeliner!
Even my hair looks good, my friends.

Spent 7 minutes looking for my keys but kept smiling (I could afford such a dreadful mistake today), packed my lunch (my colleagues won’t believe it) and gently closed the door behind me.
Out on the street, took a good breath of fresh city air…

quai au bois à brûler Bruxelles
… and violently grabbed my phone.
Dialed my mother’s number : “Hi Mum, everything ok with Emma? How did she sleep? What are you gonna do today? Don’t bring her home too late, tonight, allright?”.

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