Solveig’s Mother

Solveig's Mother

Kerstin's tears spilled over and dribbled down her fingers and knuckles. But strength could contain the outpour, her control a shattered lie. Her body acting alone as her mind crumbled. There were so many questions. But one reality.

Her sister was dead, mauled by more wolves than could be counted. And her daughter had been the one to find her. And with a strength she could not muster, she needed to support her child through the chaos.

She could barely breathe, let alone move. She was holding herself together, alone on the edge of the bed, her head pinned to the headrest by the pull of the world. The door opened and in stepped her youngest boy, a bowl of porridge in hand.

It was fascinating how fancy the porridge was. It contained milk and apple slices, surrounded by honey, making her food look like it was on an island. The last thing she wanted was something sweet, but she'd be mad to say no.

The boy sat next to her, she put a shaky hand around him, giving the slightest of squeezes. He smelled of sweat and bad parenting, dirt streaking his pale sun started skin. It reminded her that she was part of the world, and time would keep moving, even as she lay dying from the massive hole in her heart. Time didn't have the courtesy to leave her behind, it dragged her, kicking and screaming. Her breath grew short as she tried to force the porridge down, a lot of it getting stuck on the ceiling of her mouth, sticking to her throat.

The smell of fish and wet wood hit her nostrils. Some stranger was trying to take control of her home, and some 'stranger' was making choices.

Kerstin's choices!

The will to eat ran out but at least something was in her gut like lead so no one could complain. Almost all of the honey and fruit slices were left behind. It didn't take much for the boy to finish where she left off.

Kerstin shut her eyes and took a heavy and deep quivering breath. That would have to do. She pushed him up. It gave him the opportunity to let him struggle pulling her up. Her filthy, badly parented little warrior planted his feet, leaning back and gave a war cry to get her up. She let him win and they walked together out to the outside world.