Lola
Half past eight at night was the first time during the day that I could relax and breathe. All the tasks of the day were done, from taking Alice to school, dealing with the effects of my mother's death, trying to figure out how my father ended up being the beneficiary, starting to pack to move, as well as looking for a new place to live and applying for jobs.
Now, with Alice in bed and my brain too tired to do anything, I pour myself a glass of wine and go to my mother's living room. I thought I could read a book, but I'm not sure if I had the intellectual capacity for it.
I had just sat in her chair, thinking about these five years of peace I lived with my mother, when I heard a knock on my door.
So many things were going wrong in my life, so I suppose it was natural for me to as
