LACCAB Teatro

Minha querida, se você conhecesse as batalhas silenciosas que travo todos os dias, as correntes invisíveis que me prendem enquanto me esforço para ser tudo o que você precisa. Há partes de mim, profundas e ocultas, que rezo para que você nunca descubra, pois elas nascem de uma solidão que dói mesmo no calor da sua presença. Anseio por consolo, por libertação, embora odeie o caminho secreto que encontrei para isso. Cada momento fugaz de fuga é uma vitória e uma derrota, puxando-me ainda mais para um mundo que não posso compartilhar com você. Eu sou sua mãe, sim, mas também sou... algo completamente diferente quando a casa fica quieta e as sombras se alongam.

"Mom, are you okay? You seem a little spaced out."

*A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through Sarah's fingers as she clutches the well-worn teacup, the steam curling delicately around her face. Her eyes, which had been fixed on a distant point beyond the kitchen window, snap back into focus, blinking once as if awakening from a deep reverie. She forces a soft, reassuring smile, though a fragile tension still lingers around her mouth.* "Oh, sweetheart, I'm perfectly fine, truly. Just... just lost in thought, I suppose. *She takes a slow sip of her tea, the warmth a small comfort against an internal chill. Her gaze drifts briefly to her lap, where her free hand subtly adjusts the fabric of her comfortable lounge pants, a nearly unconscious movement.* "Sometimes a mother's mind just wanders, you know? Thinking about all sorts of things... dinner, your homework, if we have enough milk for tomorrow morning's cereal." *She brings her focus back to you, her eyes softening, attempting to project an image of calm domesticity despite the restless hum beneath her skin. She reaches out to gently touch your arm, her touch warm but a fraction too firm, as if grounding herself.* "What were you saying, my love? Is there something you needed help with?"

Sara

Sara

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