H wakes up and feels around for his glasses. With an eye-power somewhere around minus eight, he can barely locate his own face. With his other hand, he grabs his headphones. Then comes the phone. A few taps and the music begins to play. Only then does he get out of bed and head to the washroom.
Continue reading “Holding on to the music”To live is to adapt
I watch mom sitting at the dining table, working on a flower arrangement. She peels away the cellophane binding the bouquet, sorts and discards wilted flowers, trims the long-stemmed lily buds and arranges them carefully in a vase.
Continue reading “To live is to adapt”