Kai and Soren - Days - Chapter six: Let’s Do What Really Matters

The journey back is quiet.

The snow has pulled back to the edges, untouched,

as if the road belonged only to them.

No one speaks.

Hannah looks out the window, her chin resting on one hand.

Ruairidh keeps his eyes fixed ahead.

Kai is asleep.

Soren is not.

The house welcomes them in silence.

Nothing has been moved.

The chairs are where they left them.

The kitchen tap drips.

A glass in the sink.

Clothes hooks scattered across the sofa, too hastily.

The smell of wooden parquet, the flowers still alive in the vase, the scent of books by the entrance.

Time has stopped there.

Hannah sets the keys down on the table. Then a long sigh.

“I’m home.”

Ruairidh carries the children inside one by one, gently strokes Soren’s cheeks.

He sucks on a finger.

The night passes without dreams.

Or perhaps without memories.

The days that follow move as they should.

Meals.

Visits.

Brief phone calls.

People speak in low voices, as if the house were still a hospital room.

Ruairidh splits his time between work and free time.

And slowly, the world resumes its rhythm.

Leaving the house is still difficult, but necessary.

Hannah goes to the supermarket.

Kai sleeps in the carrier, his warm breath against Hannah’s chest.

Soren sits in the cart, his hands gripping the plastic edge.

The aisle is narrow.

Boxes stacked too high.

Dry pasta.

Cardboard on cardboard.

A store clerk bumps into the cart while passing.

A light impact.

One box comes loose.

Hannah looks up.

For a very brief instant.

Oh God.

The box falls.

Then veers.

Slides sideways.

Bounces and bursts open, spilling its contents onto the floor.

Pieces of pasta roll across the shiny tiles.

Some stop just inches from her foot.

No one says anything for a second.

The clerk laughs, a little too quickly.

“Lucky.”

Someone nods.

Others keep walking.

Hannah smiles.

Then apologizes.

The smile stays on her face longer than it should.

Her heart pounds.

Kai stirs slightly in the carrier.

Soren looks at the box.

Then at her.

Hannah pushes the cart forward.

She doesn’t look back.

ns216.73.216.10da2

Reading Theme:

Font Size:

Line Spacing:

Paragraph Spacing:

Load the next issue automatically