I wake up. My eyes are heavy, my mouth is heavy my armpits are heavy. I have broken up with my girl. Because he is putting pressure on me. To be on time. To stand upright, to eat worthwhile. Instead, I adopt a little black boy to care about and cook for. We both live in a vitrine gallery. Not so comfortable. But we do. We live there. One day, just after cooking oats, he abandons me. Is it the oat? Does he prefer wheat? I follow a wheat free diet, but I do not mind. I will cook wheat for him. I search everywhere. No trace of wheat or my black boy. And I cry until the day after, happy in my serenity.