His mother slathered butter onto the toasted bread without looking down. Rather, she was staring off into the distance, at the wall.
He glanced at the dull grey wall, but saw nothing of interest. "Mama?"
His mother did not spare a single glance in his direction, opting to continue gawking at the wall.
"Mama? Mama?"
Finally, the slender woman turned her gaze to her son, only humming in response. She blinked owlishly at the child, head tilted to the side.
"What are you looking at?"
"You,"
"No, before that, silly!"
"What do you mean?"
"You were looking at the wall. The wall isn't interesting,"
"I- I was thinking, love," she said, shaking her head and finally looking down at the toast she was buttering.
" 'bout what?" he questioned.
"Work,"
"Is that where you're going later?"
"Yes, sweetie, that's where I'm going,"
"Again?"
She nodded in affirmation. "Again,"
"But you're never home anymore!" he whined.
"I'm home now, right?"
"Yeah, but-" he was cut off as his mother placed a plate in front of him.
"Eat," she said simply, turning to pick up her mug- more of a jug- of coffee.
He huffed but soon began scooping food into his mouth, eager to finish and be on his way.
His mother helped him pull on his backpack before sticking out her hand. "Let's go,"
The walk to school was silent, giving the boy time to soak in his environment. People walking quickly, honking cars, rushed speaking. Fast. Everything was fast. Whiplash-inductively fast. He sped up his pace.
The teacher ushered him inside with quick, precise movements. Backpacks came off. Notebooks were pulled out. Typical third grade routine. New concepts were learned. Upcoming tests announced.
"Don't forget to study,"
He scribbled in his own notebook happily, yearning to mimic the adults he looked up to so much. Fast paced. Efficient. Looking around, he saw his classmates doing the exactly same thing.
The teacher sat ramrod straight at her desk, red pen in hand, marking papers. Her glasses were pushed halfway up her nose and she was silent, a stark contrast to chattering, giggling children. There were dark circles under her eyes, accentuated by the way the light filtered into the room. Her hands were shaking with exhaustion and hunger as she wrote.
But she wrote nonetheless.
His grandfather was waiting outside for him when the day ended. He smiled and skipped to the older man, who smiled in return, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The boy reveled in the rare sight. He immediately began babbling about his day.
"Hi mama!" he said cheerfully, as they entered the apartment. He was met with no response. "Is she home?" he questioned, looking up at his grandfather.
The man nodded slowly. "She's in the office,"
The little boy nodded, skittering in the direction of the office where he found his mother staring at a computer screen.
"Hi mama!" he repeated, but his words fell upon deaf ears. He was met with no response, but he was used to it. He tugged gently at his mother's sleeve. "Mama! I'm home!"
Once again, his mother said nothing, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
"Mama?" he questioned timidly. "Mother?"
He huffed in frustration. He opened his mouth and called loudly, "I have to study!"
