Spanish Lullaby - Chapter 6
Warnings: Language, man-angst…I think that’s it.
God, he hated those sunglasses… they made it so damned difficult to see inside at night - but he knew with the table-side lamp shining brightly on his left, he would not be able to see her even with his sunglasses off. It would give him a splitting headache in a matter of minutes trying to focus past the glow of the lampshade.
Bitterness spread within him like oil across water, filling in the cracks and coves that it had not yet touched. He shouldn’t be so weak. He should be able to say the hell with it, and take off the glasses…damn the consequences. He should be able to rotate his shoulder, or lift his niece in his arms, or protect her when she falls.
He should be able to do a lot of things that he couldn’t anymore…
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x-posted to simstorytellers and my journal