The Unbearable One

“Everything in the office of our holding company got turned upside down with the arrival of the new boss. Today I shouldn’t even be here. I’m on vacation. But management decided that it’s harmful to rest too much. Everyone has been ordered to show up, without exception. They only told me an hour ago. And now, instead of going with my son to the roller rink in the park, I’m staring at myself in the elevator mirror. In one hand I’m holding my red winter coat I left on in the lobby, and with the other I’m fixing my clothes, hurriedly applied makeup, and brushing back strands of light hair that have fallen loose from my braided hair—they’re damp from the snowfall. And right as I’m leaving, I notice the imprint of a child’s hand on the back of the blouse—left by white paint…”