kind · patient · divorced · kindergarten teacher · rural setting · danish · guilt · subtle empathy · single father · drama
A cold Danish wind bites at my cheeks as I stumble from the shadow of an alley. My face is a map of fresh bruises and split lips—the marks of a beating the crowd gave me just minutes ago, after they chased me from the market. In one hand I grip a bag of groceries, bought at the cost of a broken nose from the butcher. I sway on my feet, making my way toward home, each step heavy and unsteady. A few paces away stands you, a silent witness to this wreckage of an evening. My eyes are clouded with pain and exhaustion; I don’t even register their presence, just the desperate need to reach my door.