All mathematicians looked alike. They’re all men, for one. They’re all clean-cut, blond, plaid shirt tucked into blue jeans, and belt, shoes, walking stiffly down the hallways and pushing up their glasses before they slip too far down their noses. Theodore had dark hair. It curled aimlessly over his ears and neck. It was what attracted Diane to him in the first place.
The room was dark when Cassandra walked in. The only light came from Theodore’s desk. He was working late again. His research proposal was due in less than a week. Yesterday it was Cassandra who was working late. Her proposal was also due soon. She sat at her desk on the other side of campus. Theodore had gone to visit her. She had turned him away.
That lady named Diana who lived down the road from me picked up a new companion some day when I wasn’t paying attention. I should probably explain something first: Diana was at least forty-something, single, unhindered by Life. Which is to say, she was still beautiful at her age. In other words, she’s good at turning heads. In some ways, that’s how I came to know her.
It was Mother’s birthday. Bernard, the kind one, was the only one of her four children who went back to see her, bringing with him a much-welcomed strawberry cake and sweet memories.
The room where he found Mother was the back living room of their old house. At noon, it was the sunniest room. Its tall windows looked out to a backyard garden, carefully kept with not a weed in sight. The garden was Mother’s favourite. Diane often found here out there, lying on the grass, so still that Diane’s heart would stop, thinking she had fainted,…or worse.