"The sick do not ask if the hand that smooths their pillow is pure, nor the dying care if the lips that touch their brow have known the kiss of sin."
Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900)
It was the last promise to be kept. My grandparents reposed where they had longed to be, at last. For yes, I had tarried. The morning sea ...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question