The Fifth Sense

13.3.2146
4 pm

“You’re alive, that makes you more than special enough for me.
That’s what my mother told me every time I’d get upset about something”
That wasn’t true of course. His mother always said:
“You are alive. That’s more than weird enough.”
But who’s counting?
Spes Kelsier took a breath and tried his best to at least sound sad. The faces that stared back at him unfortunately didn’t help much.
“My mother has always had a hands-on approach. I still remember vividly how once, when I was seven, our generator just stopped working and instead of calling anybody for help, she simply stayed up the whole night and fixed it before going to work the next morning.”
Lying was easy. Even in this situation, lying was easy.

The way back from the funeral was quiet. Not a single guest said a word. The colourful clothes of the 217 attendants bristled quietly through the empty streets. The group slowly shrunk. When Spes arrived at his house only a few people remained. His uncle, his sister and the doctors of course.
They seemed uncertain whether they could stay.
“Want to join me for a tea?”

The inside of Spes house was ugly. Or at least it was ugly for Spes. He preferred the house his uncle lived in because of its fully black and white interior. The others couldn’t care less about the pink couch next to the beige wall or about the brown furniture next to the green carpet. What everyone seemed to care about was the silence.
“I’m sorry I only have black tea”
“We don’t mind”, his sister replied.
And there was the silence again.
After a couple of seconds his uncle scratched the bald spot on his head, swallowed and asked the question that undoubtedly had been on everyone’s mind since the moment his mother passed.
“So what do you plan to do next?”