Mia suddenly wanted to be cruel. To prolong her mother’s fears. Just like a fanatical missionary, who feels pleasure in seeing sinners afraid of the punishment that will steal up behind them unbeknownst.

“Very depressing, very depressing,” her mother said, lighting up a cigarette while the usual, sadly innocent grimace appeared on her face.

Mia smothered her desire to say something harsh. Words are shells. They must be removed and discarded.

“It seems to me I don’t have to be locked up.” A certain assertiveness welled up in her mother’s voice.

“I also think you don’t have to,” Mia said. “You don’t want to die.”

“Now, Mia …”

Her mother reproachfully dragged out the much loved phrase and looked around to see if what Mia had said had been overheard.

“There’s an awful lot of work at home. I could easily do some planting in the garden.”

Her mother lit up a cigarette from the previous one she had smoked.

“Dad and I can’t sleep at night. We have nightmares.” Mia looked closely at her mother.

“Why blame me?” Offended, her mother dramatically raised her eyebrows. “It was an accident.” Then repeated more slowly: “Ac-ci-dent. And it’s a good thing that it ended as well as it did. Hundreds of people die at sea, explode in the sky. How do you think their relatives feel?”

Mother was riding high.

Mia felt as if she were facing a brick wall and senselessly throwing small plastic balls at it.

“What I wouldn’t give, if you would only remember even a bit of it,” Mia suddenly screamed. “So that it wouldn’t give you any peace.”

She jumped to her feet and left. Left her wrapped in cigarette smoke, in shock.

Mia throws the black garbage bag into a dug out pit. When there is a breeze, flower petals fall from the blossoming plum tree into the pit. It is a moving sight.

Mia purposefully heads for the pond. The water probably still can’t be all that warm. But she is determined to go for a swim.

The dock has warmed in the sun. On the other side of the pond, frogs bark now and then in the bulrushes. Green water dogs. Otherwise it is quiet. Mia undresses. Her skin comes in touch with the warm air. She would like to swim in the air. If only one could.

Mia dives in, head first. Cold lightning strikes her sides. Mia keeps her eyes wide open in the water. The pond has a yellowish, transparent subconscious. How long can she not breathe?

That evening she and her father had driven happily home.

Father had stopped his car by blossoming bushes at the riverbank and broke off an armful for her mother. Mia gazed at him in surprise. She couldn’t believe how much love could bear. They had brought wine and tastier-than-the food-forgods country bread in a basket.

How beautifully the sun shines under the water.