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An old man smiles taking a moment to cough.

"I want to paint a sky. One that is filled with purples, pinks, whites and blues. The colours will drip like an overloaded canvas."

He twists his hands through the air trying to capture the clouds outside of his window.

"I'll be able to reach up and touch it with the tips of my fingers and pull upon the clouds which will twist around my hand, so soft just the way Cotton Candy decieves the eye"

The day becomes colder then he can handle. He lays himself down on a bed holding the blankets closer to his fragile body.

"It will feel like someones making toast on a cold night, the heat will provide a warmth that will make anybody lay down for hours."

He closes his eyes smiling.

"When the sun wants to sleep, the moon and stars will shine amongst the clouds with the same purples and pinks. The navy dark corners will sing to the angels"

He is unable to recognise the smell of disinfectant opening his eyes, his two sons are sitting next to him, they know his Alzheimers well.

"Who are you and where is Laura?"

"Dad, Mum is no longer with us. Don't you remember?"

"Who are you and where is Laura?" He repeats himself.

"We are your sons, Frank and Mark. Mum is no longer with us"

"Who are you and where is Laura?"

His father looks out the window, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts.

"I want to paint a sky"

When He Became An Old Man | Next »
For lostneuron, I'll Paint You a Sky

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