I’m in kindergarden and I’m playing with a Bart Simpson doll, It is my second favourite toy here, the first is a plastic cooker. My favourite toy at home is a Barbie doll, but I am not allowed to bring that to class.
I’m nine now, I’m in a supermarket with my mother. She is talking to my Uncle who has gotten a job as a security guard in the supermarket. He is asking me if I have stolen anything, he is joking, but I have stolen something, its in my pocket and I am afraid. He askes me to empty my pockets, still joking. I don’t move and he laughs.
Now I am taking the entrance exam for secondary school, it is the first test I in a series that will guide my future. Afterwards we explore the school and make friends with the other kids taking the exam. A fight nearly breaks out. I have never seen a fight before, I don’t know what to think.
I am being offered drugs for the first time. I have never even smoked a cigarette. I try the drugs, but it makes my cough and I don’t like it.
Now I am dancing with a girl. Her hair smells like tea tree oil, I really like this, it reminds me of when I was a working in my aunt’s garden and she put tea tree oil on my scrapes and bruises.
Its years later, sometimes I still dance with the girl who reminded me of my aunt, but now she uses different shampoo, and tea tree oil reminds me of when I first met her.
I am arranging a party for my wife and I. It is for our twenty five year wedding anniversary.
It is the day before our anniversary, and my wife is telling me she has cancer. I had previously commented that she had been losing weight. The party still goes on, but I don’t drink, all I want to do is dance with her.
It is raining and as the drop falls the bells ring a funeral toll. I am burying my wife. She is the only one I told all my secrets to. I can’t think about tomorrow, this burying in the earth is the last day we will both be above ground.
I am old now and I have lived in my basement for years. The above ground floors of my house have been transformed into part green house part food manufacturing plant. This was my wife’s dream, to be self sufficient.
Someone in Africa invents a food that provides a full weeks nutrition and can be grown in any soil with minimal upkeep. My self sufficient lifestyle is now irrelevant. I feel like my wife has died all over again, as her dream is now dead. I wish only that I would be taken, by cancer, or illness, or by some accident so that I might join her in whatever there is after this life. My life was for her, and my death shall be too.