The Mother

The Chef put up with the rudest customer in the restaurant day after day and didn’t even spit in their soup.

The Editor gave comments so percipient they made the writer’s stomach flutter with the comfort that someone understood what was in their head better than they did.

The Doctor mopped up stomach bug sick and bandaged bleeding eczema wounds even when it wasn’t their shift.

The Gardener allowed a bucket of weeds to stand near their sunflowers even though it spoiled their carefully cultivated plans.

The Diplomat resolved foam sword battles before they got out of hand.

The Therapist listened to ten-year-old existential crises at 1am and waived the fee.

The Bank Manager gave out free money.

The Chauffeur wasn’t afraid to say, ‘Don’t be lazy, you can walk.’

The Teacher took no holidays.

The Musician filled corridors with Moonlight Sonata, rehearsed over and over, so that sometimes a repeated verse plays like a metronome in the back of someone’s mind, as they walk alone to their new flat on a foggy Tuesday night.