"how was work?" she kissed my cheeks. cold as ice. but still smelled like her favourite English rose talc.
"it was okay." not. "I bought you your favourite pecan pie."
|The garden chairs where I sat with her|
"can't help it, can I?" I opened the box. "it reminds me of you. want some?"
she shook her head. she repeated the exact same answer to the exact same question for the last two years. "help yourself, darling." and asked me to eat it for her.
to be continued :)