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Weekly Contest #355
Note: Sensitive content: contains depiction of death. When she was very small, Tabatha Presenza saw death for the first time. She saw it as a wisp hovering just above Nonno Grumble’s nobbly chin as he lay on the rollaway cot in the living room, his eyes still opening from time to time, unseeing, pupils still glimmering as the final fever burned his life away hour by hour. All night, her grandfather’s chest rose and fell unevenly, yet the wisp never moved. Even when Mamma and Tia Rosa carefully dripped precious morphine onto Nonno’s tongue, e...
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