Day 12 : Sisiphus
Mother Sisi dusted and dusted until she found a golden piece.
Like she had been doing for 4 days already.
And then she bought couscous ingredients, that always have been lacking.
And she knew that the cat would eat her food and that she is going to cut his tail.
The same day repeats, the same birds sang at the same time every time, the spoon falls the same way the same moment, like a clockwork, something akin to a work of the devil.
How many times does she have to clean her kitchen? How many times does she have to prepare the lunch, only for it to be eaten by the same lowly cat?
“Why does it have to be me?" she asked. No one was with her and no one answered. She has been living in this hell day in, day out.
“What did I do to deserve this” She screamed. The agony is so much that at times she cuts her wrist instead of the cat’s tail, only to wake up the morning of today.
By day 21, she cooked the cat with the couscous. At least it changed the mundane taste. By day 35, she stayed still, seemingly catatonic. Day 37 she ran away and got ran over by a pets refuge truck. Day 43, she stuck the broom’s stick in her eye to see how that felt, after all, she could redo the whole day afterward so it didn’t really matter.
Nothing really matters.
Nothing excepts that dime, that couscous, that cat’s tail, and the empty bottle of pills she used to take for her dementia.
