2

Once again, all family members had the opportunity to witness another day. Psyche washed her face, as always scrupulously refreshing it with icy water, which, she said, was incredibly enlivening.

She lost no time and began to clean up the house. Obsessive-compulsive disorder is her lot. And she felt it more for the human being than for things that could be washed or wiped and that could not be cleaned themselves. She was upset when she saw her close people carelessly throw clothes and objects, perceiving it as disrespectful to her work and lost time.

Her parents were asleep, and Psyche went to the kitchen to make breakfast. She loved crunchy white bun toast: rich, with a golden tint and a vibrant flavor that made all her taste buds remember what it was like to feel. When she made a portion of her favorite toast, she always spread it with melted cheese, which melted not only in her mouth, but also on the bun, penetrating all open spaces. She also liked sweet tea, but the only thing that bothered her was that the small amount of white powder dissolved so quickly. "Wow, just like the truth dissolves in the ocean of our human delusions, and sometimes not human at all. How often do we mistake salt for sugar? " she thought to herself.

When it came to eating, the young girl liked to chew everything carefully and slowly, feeling every particle. In her opinion, this is one of the most easily accessible ways to be in the present, in addition to taking a shower and listening to music. The way to not think about the past, but just enjoy the taste. The way to not rush anywhere, and therefore not worry about the future. "A meal is an opportunity to inhale a sip of the present that lasts for a few moments," she accepted this thought with sadness, looking out the window at the clear, deep blue sky.

At this moment, the mother could be heard in the next room, who was in the habit of talking on the speakerphone. Psyche was clearly aware that she was on the phone with Lamia, Melissa's mother. The young girl was still in the kitchen, thinking of many things. At this moment, still talking, the mother went into the kitchen. She was making breakfast and slicing some food.

"Why live like this? When will her son grow wiser?"

"Did you notice what she said yesterday?"

"You too? I thought I was the only one who saw such bad taste in a person's clothes and conversation."

"Oh, if only they had the slightest notion of what really means the bad taste in conversation" – was indignant and thought to herelf Psyche.

"Yes, she definitely felt like a fish out of water."

"That's right, she doesn't need to come to such events. It doesn't suit her. That’s not hers."

"You are right, people don't understand how to live in society at all."

– "We always want the best for the person."

It would seem what such a grandiose thing was done by that unfortunate woman, which caused a flurry of negativity and a storm of emotions in mothers. Her kid died. The daughter. And all the people just gathered in honor of this event in the life of Failia. This was another reason for Psyche to be disillusioned with people. It was unpleasant for her to realize that people took even such a pure and sincere thing as death in an ignorant way. For such people, the death of a familiar person is another way to get together, to show their "superiority" in appearance and in position in society.

“As if Failia needed the pseudo – involvement of strangers in her life and their pseudo-support”, Psyche thought. "She just wanted peace and solitude, without all the hypocrisy and arrogance that musty society has to offer. Services of society for which you pay with your inferiority and state of mind, but you get either nothing or even more damage. People have one thing in mind – to show that they participate in the life of society. They want to help everyone, to be praised and appreciated. And after all, sometimes there is something for it, but sometimes, unfortunately, it is a cheap acting game."

Meanwhile, the father was also awake. He started having breakfast and as always paid attention to the quality of the tea. In his opinion, tea should be brewed correctly, following some instructions. Only Psyche became more and more convinced that her father had probably not read the instructions of life fully, or had not read them at all.

Although he was a literate and educated person, and there was something to talk about with him. But, alas, such moments in their lives were rare. They didn't talk much, and they didn't try to figure out who or what they were, and they didn't understand each other. They failed to give experience, their vision, and fill their presence in each other's lives with energy. The father did not try to please the family and took everything for granted, without trying to revive any common worthwhile values. However, he was a sympathetic, kind and gentle person, because in life there were many situations where he did not leave a person in trouble if there was a chance, whether it was his relatives or strangers.

One day a father brought someone else's child home. The child belonged to a good friend of his. She asked for help because she couldn't look after the girl because of work. Psyche did not think that the girl's mother was a bad person, and the child was interesting, sweet, and her eyes were full of hope. The girl's clothes were snow-white, and the bows looked like snowflakes. "Father just brought this child to us, but it was I who helped her deal with her inner world. Hmm, and yet, what is a boon?” – thought the young lady, while spending time with the daughter of dad’s friend, playing with her and offering the piece of white paper and colored pencils. And the mother talked a little with this, in her opinion, amusing child, they had fun, and they fell asleep together, because Psyche was not willing to sleep with Jeanne in the same bed.