Because the heart matters
01 Feb 2022Mary Quinn
I turned in my hands the figurine representing an angel, carved in synthetic ivory block. The statue, with the physique of a young woman, stands barefoot on a planet engraved with five stars, a sword in her right hand, a key in her left. Her wings are spread, and her face is fierce, proud and determined.At that very moment, I understood why I felt bad since I was working for a big company like Remlok, why a weight was oppressing my chest. I sank further into my seat in my little office at Pellegrino Station, caressing the ivory as if it were the most precious thing in the universe. It had been given to my grandmother for her achievements as protector of our colonies.
The artificial light highlighted the white face of the statuette, and my throat tightened.
I felt as if my dear grandmother was judging my motives, gazing into my eyes across space and time from the distant realm of the dead. Am I happy with what I am doing? Am I proud? I had to escape this feeling of emptiness that was settling in me, to get out of this comfort zone where I was already starting to get stuck. To grow up and live in accordance with my values. Because the heart matters.