Sorina

At the time I have just ended a very brief dating thing with her brother. Rather a no. They were all working together: she, her husband, her brother, and her father had retired a few years before from the same company.

Six weeks old.


I told her brother how sorry I was when I crossed him some time later. He was growing a bear, as it's the custom after the death of a relative. Men are supposed to not shave for six weeks or six months or a year.


Years passed, they had a son, and now also a daughter. When I was pregnant last time, she told me how happy she was for me to have a daughter, to find out what a little girl means. I changed shifts and we are now shiftmates. This is a nice shift. I had baby clothes from here and there, and one night she brought me a bag of baby girl clothing. Very nice, almost not weared, some things even had the tags on, price reaped apart.


I thanked her, wishing the clothing to be for her daugher's health. A custom. She answered: "Let it be for my little one." It turned on my heelstoward the door. There, it thundered on me.


"What was her name?" "Sorina". Her father's name.