Saturday morning - 8.30am

Each step of hers weighed heavy. She thought this to be a strange sensation because her body felt light. Conscious of her foot landing in each square of the pavement, she looked at her painted toes slightly moving about in her slippers, as she walked in the familiar block of her neighborhood.
She entered the bakery, tore a number from the number giving machine, and waited for her turn to be called on. She didn’t need to think of what she would get, she knew what she wanted.
The man dressed in beige shorts and a blue t-shirt at the corner, was whistling a tune she had heard. She tried to recognize it, but couldn’t. She hoped this would not disturb her for long, as she tried to remember the song.
Her number was called. She asked for a loaf of bread and two croissants.
She walked back towards her apartment, not realizing that she had already forgotten about the tune she was trying to remember. Her thoughts went back to the conversation she had had the previous week with her cousin who had told her she was selfish.
She punched in the code to her building, walked past the open courtyard and climbed two flights of stairs. She unlocked the door to her apartment, closed it back, put her bag pack on the living room sofa, placed the two croissants in the oven and switched on the radio.