TE20 Migrant Mosaics

Birke

aboutwhat he said: going to the cabin would help with the process ; going to the cabin is a good decision .

What did he know about decisions? She asked herself.

Everything, she answered. His whole life was a decision. Mommy and daddy produced him on purpose. As a decision. The hair on his face, or rather lack thereof, was due to a decision—a calculated decision that neatly corresponded to the decision that he had made a long time ago for the person that he wanted to be. But he wasn’t the only one who made this last decision. When he was a kid, his parents cooed: Thomas loves to draw. He’s an artist. He has talent. But there must be a way to develop this. A way for us, as mother and father of a respectable family, to make a decision regarding his talent. So, they put him in art school, but not some school that would, after four or five years, produce a shaggy haired, drug using, masochistic dreamer. This school would produce a young man, although a bit eccentric, who wants a career : a graphic designer or an advertising man. Creative nonetheless! Even a little funky, but still calculated. Still…right! Birke felt bad mocking him. She loved him. He is beautiful, she thought. He is kind . And he is quite creative. His designs arewitty and sleek . A block away from her apartment in the fifth district she noticed a man, a painting man; or rather, a man painting the façade of a building. He had dark hair. A cigarette hung out of his mouth. His looked at her aggressively. Birke liked his facial hair. He obviously hadn’t shaved in some time. She thought his face looked like it was being overtaken by weeds. Pretty weeds, nonetheless. A cut 221