Diana Lord

Mr. Sowa continued, his curiosity getting the better of him, "So, is she around 40 years old? Fat or slim? Busty or..."

But Eric cut him off, his voice rising in exasperation, "Mr. Sowa, I never knew you were this wretched!" His outburst was so loud that Mr. Sowa stopped talking, taken aback by Eric's sudden intensity.

Then Eric's expression turned serious, his voice laced with disgust. "It's my ex-girlfriend who bought me all this food. She thinks she can buy me with this, that we can be lovers again? She thinks I'm that cheap?"

Mr. Sowa's eyes narrowed, his expression turning stern. He seemed to be reevaluating Eric's situation, his mind racing with questions. But Eric's reaction had brought him back to reality.

"So, did you agree to her proposal?" Mr. Sowa asked, his eyes fixed on the road.

"No!! Am I that kind of person who can be swayed by just food?" Eric replied, his tone indignant.

"So, what did you do?" Mr. Sowa pressed on, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Ha! I didn't kowtow and pledge fealty. I just took the food and left, manly and unapologetic," Eric said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Mr. Sowa's mouth twitched, a mixture of amusement and admiration on his face. He concentrated on his driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his silence spoke volumes. He seemed to be thinking, "This young man has spirit."

He knew Eric even before his predicament and he knows he's not okay as how he appears to be.

And sometimes he doesn't want people to appear like they pity he and his bedridden mother, Diana.

Eric looked at the middle aged man, Mr Sowa who has given him a place to work, a construction site so he could get money on daily basis in gratefulness, then said solemnly;

"Thank you, Mr Sowa"

Hmm? Never mind..

The atmosphere became somehow awkward.

Eric wondered of how this man even got a woman to marry.

After a 30-minute drive, they arrived in Nørrenbro, a neighborhood with colorful, compact rows of buildings. Mr. Sowa stopped the vehicle and said, "Lad, this is the last time I'll drive you home if you don't find me a young, rich lady."

Eric exited without responding and said seriously, "I thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Sowa." Then, he ran off into the neighborhood.

Mr. Sowa shouted after him, "Hey, why didn't you respond this time?" But Eric was already gone, leaving Mr. Sowa confused.

As Eric ran, he called back to Mr. Sowa, "I think you should go to the Lovers Corner restaurant. My ex-girlfriend booked a private room for the day, and I think she can't enjoy the service alone. So, go there and..." But he didn't finish, disappearing into the neighborhood.

Eric grinned as he ran through the familiar streets, his mother and he having lived there for three years. He had bought a house there when his father was alive, but later gave it to a friend in need. After his father's passing, the friend returned the house.

As Eric approached his poorly maintained three-story building, he searched his pocket for the key and unlocked the door. Before entering, he glanced at the old motorcycle parked in the courtyard and nodded.

Upon entering the empty living room, Eric took a deep breath and muttered, "Home sweet home." Suddenly remembering something important, he dashed upstairs, thinking, "Today is Thursday, March 14, 2030 - Mummy's birthday."

As Eric approached his mother's room, he hesitated, taking a deep, slow breath before gently pushing open the door. He stepped inside with quiet reverence, his eyes scanning the space with a mix of love and trepidation. His mother's gaze met his, her cloudy, dry eyes sparkling with a warm, knowing light, as if she had been waiting for him. Despite her frailty, her eyes shone with a deep love and care, a poignant contrast to her fragile, emaciated body, which was marred by green, veiny protrusions. Eric's heart swelled with emotion as he took in the sight of his mother, his presence drawn to her side as if by an unseen force.

Eric entered the room fully and knelt down beside his mother's bed.

"Happy birthday, Mother!" Eric exclaimed, his voice filled with emotion. Diana Lord, once the epitome of health, beauty, and grace, lay weakly before him, her trembling eyebrows and throbbing throat a testament to her struggles.

Yet, despite her efforts, she remained silent, her voice stolen by some unseen force. Eric knew all too well that her eyes, once bright and full of life, had been robbed of their ability to produce tears, poisoned three years ago. And now, her own life hung in the balance, with only two years left.

Eric watched, his heart heavy with anticipation, as her eyes strained to conjure tears and her throat struggled to release a cry, but like always, he was met with silence. The disappointment etched on his face, a painful reminder of her fragile state.