Tags » Deathbed
Light blue, firmly pressed, cotton-drenched. Sheets.
The light: fluorescent, pouring down closed blinds, anxiously stopping the world from creeping in again.
I’m the only one. The only one here to hear him whisper The End in two final words,”Live ironically.” And maybe it was The Price is Right on TV, or too much coffee cake on a Saturday morning, but I became willing to take a gamble at what grandpa’s nonsense could clearly mean. 161 more words