‘Madar, I can’t,’ Ester says.
Another crowd below. So many protests, but what will it change?
The intimacy of her mother’s tears over the phone, the loneliness already setting up home in her voice.
Her father was improving; she spoke to him last week. And now he was dead.
‘Madar,’ Ester says, ‘If I leave they won’t let me back.’ The hospital, her patients relied on her, but so did her mother.
A woman holds a big heart — a universal symbol of kindness and love — and yet all Ester sees is the emptiness of it. ‘Madar, I can’t.’
Many thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesdays.