And he smiled.
“Shall I read something?”
“Yes...now!”
Turning the pages so he could hear them I searched for a favorite passage.
I read as slowly and as distinctly as possible, allowing each word time.
P
Cercolas, mother, Aesop, Phaon...gone. When shall I go?
P
I have been unable to write for days. I have nothing to say...there is only emptiness.
P