Joan smiled, she always wanted a grandparent. But no, they died before she was born.
Joan looked around the woman’s house, it was really old fashioned. The wallpaper where light brown in color embroider with chocolate colored designs. But it was never ordinary wallpaper. The designs were letters shaping abstract swirls. It was painted one by one, every single small letter, every single design. Each letter was perfect, she knew it was handmade.
"Joan," the old woman called.
She turned her head to the old woman sitting by her old rocking chair. She was illuminated by a ray of light where tiny particles danced in motion as it passed through her window pane.
It was the saddest thing of all. Seeing an old woman staring through her window alone.
A tear fell from her cataract-ed eyes with lines in her head connecting the circling crinkles at her nose, while wrinkles in her eyes hurdled as more tears began to cradle. Holding her handkerchief, she wiped her golden tears. Holding a picture frame of a man.
Joan went to her side and comforted her. "Mrs. Colt, can you tell me about that man? Is he your husband?"
"What?"
"I said 'Can you tell me about that man? Is he your husband?" I repeated and pointed the picture frame she's holding.
"I'll tell you, but no interruption." She answered. And so Joan nodded.
The old woman smiled and began to tell her life story.
YOU ARE READING
Loudness in Silence
ChickLitJoan Brooks; bullied, judged, and insulted. She was living in a hell of life, deaf and helpless. But at a new school, there's new people, new life and new hope. Let us see how the helpless give help. Let us see how a hopeless one, pours hope to othe...
