Source
Nausea overcame me as I heard the clatter of the plate hitting the floor. The broth spilled, forming a puddle that soaked my shoes. I looked down, unable to confront his angry fury.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang like a lifeline. I opened the door with trembling hands, revealing the smiling greengrocer.
-Good morning, ma'am. I bring your order.
His friendly tone contrasted with the shouts echoing through the house. I nodded silently, paying him with the last coins I had left.
-Is everything all right? -he asked with sympathetic eyes.
I swallowed, holding back tears.
-Yes, just... a bad day.
He nodded slowly, as if sensing the truth. When he left, I stared at the ajar door, inhaling the aromas of fresh vegetables. Ripe tomato, earthy carrot.... And something else. The fragile fragrance of hope.
That night, as I chopped vegetables for dinner, I wondered what it would feel like to have a life where kindness was the norm, not the fleeting exception. I might soon find out.
The poison he seasoned the food with would take effect slowly but it would be infallible.