The world we live in

What would the universe try to tell me? Did I do something wrong? Should I be protected from something? Am I too headstrong? I cannot get the questions out of my head when I take a seat in the waiting room of the local hospital for the fourth time in three years. An ingrown toenail. And every time I am assured that the problem has been solved, the nail starts to fester again after a while.

Do I want to read a magazine? Or just sit and stare at the prudish white walls? It is Monday morning. I should be working right now. Write a bit, drink coffee, listen to music, read newspaper. But now I am trapped in this stiff building full of scary diseases, deep wounds, wide fears, narrow death wishes. Again, it feels that the Cosmos holds me captive to teach me some kind of lesson.

The sliding doors next to the snack machine open and a young woman enters. She looks absent-minded like she is lost. A seagull that has been pushed by a severe storm to an unknown continent. Dazed and timid, she sits down across from me. Her eyes are closed. Meanwhile I feel my stomach growl. I look greedily at the chocolate bars and bags of chips in the shiny vending machine.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asks softly. And then she mumbles something else. I have to lean in to hear what she's saying. Although it might look somewhat impertinent, I decide to sit next to her. Because she seems so vulnerable? So fragile?

I tell her it's just past eleven. She closes her eyes again and she seems satisfied with the short answer. Now that I'm closer to her, it turns out that my first observation is incorrect. She's not a sad little bird. Next to me sits a very tired but noticeably confident woman.

“I could sleep all day,” she confides at last. She yawns uncontrollably. What is she doing here? Is she waiting to be called? Is something wrong with her? From the outside there is nothing to take notice of. On the other hand, my inflamed toe is not visible either. I don't dare to ask her. We keep silent like two cans of coke.

“Tonight, I met my parents again after more than twenty years,” she says soberly. Like she is explaining how to play game of goose. “I ran away from home when I was sixteen. Away from the fights, the altercations, the punches, the silences. Fleeing the threats, the manipulations, the many false promises, the ever-present incubus.”

She tells her story as if she has known me for years. Her father's drunkenness, her mother's covering up of the situation, the pitch-dark desperation of herself and her three younger sisters.

“I am the only one who finally decided to turn my back on my old world. My mother, my sisters, they have always stayed with my father, with each other. Maybe they saw no other choice?”

Then she gets up and stands in front of the snack machine. Her eyes are darting over the dozens of flashy packaging. She presses a few buttons, holds her bank card against the reader, and pulls out a bag of salted peanuts from the slot. She tears open the package and pours the contents into her hand. She asks if I want something too.

“A week ago, I received the message that my father was admitted to the hospital. The situation was profoundly serious, he was dying. My mother told me that he would like to be together as a family one more time. So that he could then die with peace of mind.”

We nibble on the salty peanuts like a couple of starving squirrels.

“My first reaction was of course that they could all go the hell with this demand. What reason should I have after all these years to meet them again? But after a few days, my initial anger and despair ebbed away. At long last, I decided to go to visit him.”

She looks in the bag, but she has already eaten all her nuts.

“And strangely enough, last night I was able to explain in peace to my father how much pain, how much frustration I had from the times when he was drunk again. No, he still did not get it. But what could he do? He lay helpless in his bed. But when I was finished, I hugged him anyway. Not because he wanted it but because this last goodbye gave me the opportunity to end my old life for good.”

She stands up and asks if I am still hungry for a bag of peanuts.