With my fingers sliding across the books, they stopped whenever a title would awake my interest. It wouldn't always take long before I realised how the summary didn't meet the expectations I'd had after reading the title, letting me down. I knew I had to give the story a chance- every story deserved to be heard, but if a particular sickness or topic would be written down onto the back, they'd lose me.

Squeezing my eyes closed when the late afternoon sun shone through the small windows of the library, my hands had only held books about horses so far. And although I knew he did like horses in a way, I was sure he wouldn't enjoy reading about four girls going on an adventure with their ponies to the beach and finding a lost puppy.

He already wasn't too fond of reading lately, but I thought it was important to feed him literature. Seeing he was a big eater, dessert would never be declined. To fill in the gaps, they'd say. I agreed with that, because truly, reading filled the gaps.

Whether it were the gaps in your mind or your heart, whether it was the gap in your hand that held no book, they would be filled. Reading was a privilege. Writing a story was one thing, sharing it to the world was another. A piece so close to someone's heart, something so vulnerable and personal- it was a shame to let the books lay there until a thick layer of dust would forget and cover up the hard work someone had fulfilled.

Words were a gift from God. Words bring love. Words hurt. Words encourage. Words arouse emotions. Something once meaningless, something that became one of the most important things when it came to relationships with others. Something a baby hears first. Something a kid practically learns first. Something we couldn't live without.

My mind got ahead of it sometimes. How can we think in words, give it meaning? And then the way everyone interprets it differently, which could come out entirely wrong to the point where heavy miscommunications arise, or so right that new things originate.

Words are something everybody uses, mostly without thinking much about it- the words having been given a meaning in your mind ever since you were little. But what if certain spoken words become the thing you regret the most?

You wished they wouldn't hold so much. You wished they didn't mean so much. You wished they had filled the gap rather than created one in someone's heart. A gap that simply couldn't be filled, other than a weak apology, considering the tear it had caused.

And maybe my own words had tore apart the gap in my heart with greater force than to whom I had said it to.

"I didn't know you liked reading the healing horses, healing hearts series. You find a message in that as an English teacher?"

Lost in thoughts, I had barely noticed myself flipping through Heartland, a series about a girl trying to heal traumatized or wounded horses. Letting out a chuckle, I shrugged, placing it back on its shelve. "Kid books are something else."

Salomé hummed, took the book I had just laid back. "Could be a good one for the pupils. Maybe they can identify with the horses that hold traumas."

"Sometimes the books with the least and simplest words hold the deepest meanings."

Salomé nodded, remained silent when she gave me a small smile. With the two of us searching through the books, I couldn't help but feel how she watched me. "Are you looking for something specific?"

"Not necessarily. His heart is filled with cows and horses and cowboys and rodeo and stuff, though."

"I see. So you're not looking for yourself?" She raised her eyebrows, pointing at the sign that said the category was for children. Her eyes stood playful, the tone in her voice betrayed her teasing.

"Despite my earlier statement, surprisingly I am not." We both laughed a little. She didn't say much after, but looked at me with questionable eyes. "My son. I think it's important for him to read. But since he refuses to put his foot onto the floor that belongs to a library, I'm going myself."

"Right. Improves memory and concentration, learns them how to be critical in thinking, expands the vocabulary, expands and develops the language skills and enhances imagination." Salomé piled up some books in her arms, picked almost everything her eyes fell on. "My dad stuffed me full with books. I loved reading, though. Whenever we would travel to a new place, I always had my books to keep me in the same life. Get what I'm saying? It was my safe place- the book I would be reading at that moment."

Simply nodding, I watched her, saw how she reached for the psychology books. "You do that?" I pointed at the book that was full of information about play therapy with kids.

She placed the books onto a table next to her, glancing at me. "Yeah.. sometimes. I use it with the refugee children who come in the afternoon, but got some children coming just for that too. Usually in the mornings, or in the weekend."

"How's that work?"

Salomé sat down, poured us some coffee from the machine that stood in the corner of the library. Teddy thought that through, I thought to myself, thanking her as I took a sip of the hot beverage. "Well.. it's for children who may not be able to process their emotions or articulate the things they're dealing with to their parents, seeing there's quite the communication gap between children and parents. Because of their age, sometimes depending on their stage of development- they don't have the language skills of you know.. us, as adults. So some kids may feel something, but just simply don't know how to express it."

"With play therapy, I can observe the child, help them explore their emotions and learn new coping mechanisms and how to redirect inappropriate behaviour. Hopefully, also helping to learn how to deal with an unresolved trauma they may have."

"So what's it got to do with playing?" I asked, gulping down more coffee. "Like, what can you make them do to express their emotions and all? If they don't know how to do it, how can playing make them do it?"

"With playing, kids can act out their inner feelings and emotions. Toys can be symbols, and since children can't really express themselves on our level, we get to the level of the kid. In my case, I let them play, observe them first, then may ask them to role play, you know? For example, I asked Gloria, your student, to play out a situation of her life that she finds scary or sad, still when she thinks about it. I use Playmobil. There's a lot kids will reveal, seeing the way they interact with the toys and how their behaviour changes."

"That sounds quite interesting." My thoughts led to Benji, but I refused to give in to that. When Aurora passed, I'd tried everything to help him process her death- he was alright. The pain was immense, it wasn't to be lessened right after, he just needed some time, like I did.

Salomé nodded, smiled a bit. "You know, there's something called bibliotherapy too. You can ask children to tell a "once upon a time" story. They come up with interesting things. Usually the stuff they bring to light, are the ones they deal with. Or you can read stories about problems that get solved, similar to the situation a kid has been in."

"I could use that for class."

"So, you're just going to take on my job?"

I laughed. "I'll leave it up to you."

Salomé gave me a smile, light dimples appeared. "I wouldn't stop you. So, your son? Fond of bulls and all.. how about the classic Ferdinand?" She shoved a book off her pile, passed it to me over the table. "Not many words, sweet meaning, and about bulls. I don't know how old he is, but.."

"He can read that." I answered, flipped through the book. "Where'd you find that?"

"Next to the horse series.." She shrugged, twirled her hair into a bun that turned out rather messy. It looked good on her. "If you don't like it, put it right back. Just thought a little help wouldn't hurt you."

I turned my head to her, appreciated the effort she did for me for no reason. "Thanks, I think he'll read it." Her brown eyes turned to me, lips pursed as she shrugged. "What are you doing here?"

Salomé stood up, tucked the books in the crook of her elbow. "Teddy said I could use the library here rather than the one in town. Because I now am part of the education of this school.. in a way?"

I nodded in response, didn't have much to say.

"I'm going to go. I guess I'll see you around here some time again." She turned away from me, but moved her face back to me, voice turning quieter. "Oh and.. are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You left that day at Teddy's house.. Teddy and Daniel were worried about you."

"The girl who watched my son got unwell."

Salomé nodded, smoothened her long skirt, which a white shirt was tucked into. "Well, if you need someone to talk.. I'm here. As long as your wife is alright with that, of course. Wouldn't want to get into the way."

Smiling tiredly, I nodded and watched her leave with an uncomfortable feeling in my chest, or maybe it was my heart.

When the afternoon classes were given, classes for tomorrow were prepared and my face stuffed with cookies from the staff room, I left the school. Benji would be at Daniels' house and since I was later than usual, I decided not to grab a coffee there and simply pick up my son.

However, when I arrived, Benji was nowhere to be seen. Stepping inside the coffee shop, my eyes scanned the area, falling onto Amanda. "Hey. Seen Benji?"

"No?" Amanda frowned, uncertainly looking at me. "Would he be here for the afternoon?"

"Yeah.. he said Daniel would pick him up from school so he could play with Nolan."

Amanda slowly nodded her head. Eyes were narrowed, then she shook her head. "Daniels' at the back, stuffing away the new stockings. I haven't seen Nolan around either, though. They must be in his room or something."

That moment, the door swung open. A red-faced Benji stepped inside, looked at me. His hair were disheveled, looked like he had done something that took him a lot of effort. Splatters of mud stuck to his bare legs under the shorts he was wearing. He didn't say anything, just waited for me to come. Turning to Amanda, I shrugged. "Thanks for watching him, in a way."

Odd. I thought. Because as soon as I stepped outside, I saw his bike. "Didn't I bring you to school today?"

"I picked up my bike after school. Daniel brought me home."

"Because?"

Benji sighed, sat down onto the back tire while his hands played with the brakes that were on his steer. "Because Nolan wanted to cycle."

Rubbing my face, I reached for his bike. "Car or bike?"

Benji nudged his head the direction of the car. Swinging his bike into the boot of the car, we drove off not much later. I glanced his direction and let out a chuckle. "Had fun? You're covered in mud."

He tried to suppress his smile. "The cross track was still muddy because of the rain." Seeing the cross track, built by young boys themselves, was hidden in a grove, it was no surprise.

"And you took off the mudguard."

He chewed onto his cheek, looked outside the window. I chuckled, shook my head. Boys would be boys. Then my smile faded. Why hadn't his bike been covered in mud? Or hadn't I just seen that. "Too bad I reserved at a pizza restaurant. Guess I can't bring you along when you're looking that way. You stink, too."

Benji frowned, glanced at me. His lips were parted, showing the slight gap between his front teeth. "A pizza restaurant? But I- but if you hand me the wet wipes-"

"Kidding, chap. You have enough time to hop into the shower before we go." Once we had arrived at home, Benjamin had taken a quick shower and put on the clothes I had laid out for him. We walked towards the pizza restaurant that wasn't too far from our house.

He ordered the quattro stagioni pizza, in other words, four seasons. I had tried it once, but after I had thrown up into the bushes next to the restaurant after, I decided not to order it anymore. The flavours were strong- too many ingredients were on it. Mozzarella. Tomato. Ham. Mushrooms. Artichokes. Black olives.

I'd always wondered what was wrong with Benjamin- how could he eat that? But then, Aurora would always pop up into my mind. She'd always taught him what the proper food was. She disliked the English dishes, wanted to excite his tastebuds the moment he was born. He grew up with the most interesting dishes, the ones my tongue had never touched before. Especially not on that age. But at the end, he barely declined food. He knew everything. He liked everything. So he ate everything.

Watching Benjamin eat was a different kind of pleasure. Aurora had taught him the order of how to use cutlery in a restaurant, something I'd always been oblivious to. She taught him the manners where it came to eating. How and where to place the napkin. Either on his lap, or tucked into his shirt. Taught him not to shove his food down his throat to satisfy his stomach, but eat slowly, to give his tastebuds the time to process what was laid onto his tongue. To feed, but also to enjoy the food thoroughly.

Seeing this was a pizza restaurant, there weren't too many rules when it came to eating neatly, however, his fingers barely picked up a slice. Instead, he would cut off a piece, stab his fork into it and bring it to his mouth. I would stare at the little gap between his front teeth, something I thought was adorable.

"I don't think Mamma would have approved." He mentioned, playing with his fork as he tried to figure out where to cut out a piece of his pizza next.

"I don't think so either." I gave him a small smile, took a bite out of my own margherita pizza. "She would have made it herself."

"Italian pizza restaurants in England are a scam." He imitated her accent, dramatically rolled his eyes to imply the expressions she would pull.

I almost spit out my pizza, couldn't help but laugh at that. "She would say that, wouldn't she."

Benjamin smiled half-heartedly after he let out a few chuckles. "You didn't want to cook today?"

Hard to admit that. But I didn't want to lie. "Sorry. Papà was tired from work."

"It's okay." Benjamin bit into the part that was covered in olives. He hummed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Mhm. Been a while since we had pizza."

"You don't mind eating a pizza in a restaurant that's a scam?"

"The olives aren't fresh and I think they have used too much yeast. There is not much flavour in the dough. Mamma's pizzas were better. But it's good nonetheless." Benjamin mumbled out, pulled and fiddled with his earlobe with his free hand. Something he did when he was comfortable. Enjoyed himself.

Aurora's trait.

"Hey." I swallowed, tried to suppress the aching feeling that came up. I changed the subject. "How did the presentation go? I forgot to ask, I'm sorry." More guilt crept up. Sometimes there were simply too many things to keep up with.

Benji frowned for a split second, scrunched up his nose as he pulled a thinking face. His eyes widened, he swallowed down his bite and answered. "Uh, good. She liked it." He referred to his teacher.

"You sure?" His face said something else. "Did you pass?"

"I did." Benjamin reached for his glass and started sipping from his coke. "It's mamma's birthday soon. Will we visit her?"

I nodded. Tiredness kicked in. So did Benjamins' emotions. We both cried. Then we ordered ice cream to make up for it.

•

Sweet Benjamin. What do you think of his behaviour?

Sweet Salomé. What do you think of her personality so far?

Zev and Benji father son moment?

Let me know your thoughts. Votes, comments and shares much appreciated!! Love you X