Monika stood filling a watering can and would soon rejoin her mother by the grave. It had taken Monika only five minutes to stop at the bank, rush in and put the money in Pernilla’s account, but she had still arrived late, and as expected her mother had been angry. It had become even worse since she retired. She had all the time in the world to sit and wait. Now every minute had become crucial, and those that went to waste wrought great havoc in her empty calendar. She had never had a particularly large circle of friends, and since she had retired it had become even smaller. She had never met a new husband. Maybe she had never even been interested. Monika didn’t know. They never talked about such things. Never talked about anything important at all. They would slip into the meaningless chatter they were used to as soon as they came near each other. They would skid about amongst all the words that never led anywhere and then inevitably slide back to where they started.Today Monika had hardly been able to control herself when she was met by that peevish glare.
