Exes. This Is (Not) Your Son

“Everything in the office at our holding company has been turned upside down since the new boss arrived. Today I shouldn’t even be here at all. I’m on vacation. But management decided that resting too much is harmful. A directive was issued for everyone, without exception. We were told only an hour ago. And now, instead of going with my son to skate at the park, I’m studying myself in the elevator mirror. In one hand I’m holding my red winter coat that was taken off in the lobby, and with the other I’m adjusting my clothes, the hurriedly applied makeup, and tucking away damp strands of light hair that have fallen out from my braided hair because of the snowfall. And when I’m already heading out, I notice the imprint of a child’s palm on the back of the blouse—left with white paint…”