Cycle of Cliches
She would keep going into severe depression since Deuta’s death.
“The small hole his glabella keeps coming back,” she would often say. The anti-depressants she took would make her restless, often leading her into never-ending yelling sprees. In those moments she would tell the entire world what household chores Nisim and I could have learnt doing better in the time we spent with our individual pursuits. Nisim and I would remain quiet, often trying to find something to do, like doing the dishes or dusting the living room.