Tu.yo.You.I

sUnday

I had been hearing footsteps outside the house from my living-room. I was surfing on the Internet, sitting because the rococo decoration of my place inspired me to do many things. The elevator door was closed. Someone had been walking from the elevator to my door and now that person stopped very close.

«Melody?» I asked. A voice from outside answered: «Yes, baby». It was Sunday evening. While I was thinking about my Essay fro Ellen’s class, Melody came back home. Melody is the woman who I live with. She loves to be on the street. Every day that she is off, she is on the street.

She went to church in the morning. I don’t have any idea what she was doing until the evening. Maybe, as she usually does, she was on the street. Visiting stores, buying things… When I asked her, «How are you?», She answered me with the same sentence that she says every day. She was tired. She was tired of working. She was tired of paying taxes and she was tired of this country.

She was telling me: «I’m going back to my country in 12 years» However, I hadn’t asked her about that. «I’m going to have my retirement. I work two jobs and I only pay taxes and that’s it». She is walking around me and around the table; she is going to the kitchen. Now, she is going to her room to take off her shoes. And…, she is coming from the room walking slowly and she is starting to tell me again: «I will be in Jamaica, I have a house there, I will repair the house, I will be with my family. Only 12 more years and I will be in Jamaica».

I only can think: ONLY 12 years. Is it possible to reduce 12 years of one’s life to working two jobs, paying taxes and that’s it?

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