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Tom.  

Member rating: No Rating | Words: | Submitted: Mon Jun 28 2004

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Everyday Tom gets up from his cold dusty bed imagining she is still with him. His tall fragile body weeps with pain as his arthritis kicks in. His gauging ghostly features appear upon the mirror his deep-set eyes, his chalked cheeks and his ratty nose. But yet he remembers the good old days when people greeted you with love and friendship not deceit and charisma like they do now. He pulls on his rugged fifthly clothes and walks through the hallway filled with his sentimental war memorably. He goes into his rustic kitchen and makes himself some toast with full fat butter spread all over it. He turns on his ancient wireless and sits on his rugged old armchair that his father gave to him. He picks up the daily paper and skips to the back page to check the horse racing odds. He watches the wireless until lunch then he...

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