I could see his spectacles lying on the table next to the bed. The alarm clock said 5:45. The sky was turning pink as I watched it. He still slept like a child. His right leg pulled up to his chest, his left outstretched below it. The left ankle peeking out from below the bed sheet. ...
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3 comments:
One of the more superior ones in your already enviable ensemble of literary penmanship
Lovely. Sensitively portrayed. Rings true na? :)
It should ring true, hopefully. Otherwise it would be badly written. Besides, for almost everybody, a history is always there, oui?
Thanks for the comment. :-)
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