A little while ago he exploded.
He yelled and shouted and flung the banana he was eating. It slipped down the fridge door, the rest of it here and there on the floor. Once again he grabbed a couple of bags, firmly, and stomped out. Then the silence. Miles got up. He appeared in the doorway, very awake:
- Is he gone?
I nodded. I was calm, I carried out the rituals of a Friday morning, one by one. We talked about the Spanish teacher, the dog, his lunchbox, it's not watertight, yesterday he had water in his satchel, so ice cubes in a plastic bag to keep his lunch cool is not a good idea. I'll have to buy him a freezer pack. That I promised him. We also laughed a little, of it all, washed the fridge door and wiped off the banana from the floor. Then I took him to the school bus. Now I've made myself a cup of coffee. I sit by the window and try to make my body understand, that no one is going to die of it.
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