I’m lucky. His eyes are already closed. Wrinkled eyelids cover his eyes, once blue, now a washed-out beige. I would have been so cold and so afraid to touch her small, wrinkled face, seemingly framed by wrinkles. I’ve known him since he came into the world, watched him grow up, around the house, chased him when he was little. He was so dear to me. For five minutes I’ve been trying to touch him. I …
Stiripesurse.ro
