Elena’s Sunday

Elena usually gets up early, but on Sunday she allows herself to stay in bed until nine. She never works at weekends, and she has made a habit of drinking tea and reading a book in the quiet of the morning, while the rest of the building is still asleep.

Her brother Marco often comes round for lunch. Elena cooks pasta or rice because he likes both, and sometimes they prepare the meal together, arguing happily about how much salt to use. On other Sundays she cooks alone while he sits at the table and tells her about his week.

After lunch Marco suggests watching a film, but Elena is exhausted. “I’d rather sleep than watch anything,” she tells him. “In that case, I’ll wash the plates,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. Elena smiles and closes her eyes on the sofa, listening to the water running in the kitchen.

In the afternoon they go for a walk in the park. It is cold, though the sun is surprisingly warm. As always, they buy an ice cream, even though it is winter, and eat it on a bench while they watch the other walkers, wrapped up in their scarves and coats.

At seven Marco goes home because he has to be at work early on Monday. Elena stands at the door until he disappears down the street. She feels content: her quiet Sundays are exactly what she needs after a busy week.