The new volunteer is the first to initiate conversation.
The girl places the tray of food on the bedside table, like always. She watches from the corner of the room like always, eyes open, mind gone. The volunteer lingers longer than usual and that's the first clue that something is about to happen.
"You have pretty eyes, why don't you show them off more often?"
The first words a human has spoken to her that have nothing to do with her condition or this place of gray and black and bleakness-and those words are about her eyes.
Her eyes.
Not feeling obligated to answer-not obligated to do anything, not even breathe-she turns her head away and closes her eyes.
She can't see the sad look on the new volunteer's face before she leaves, closing the door behind her not with a light click but with a muffled bang as the metal hits the cushions.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Her Definition Of "Life"
Historia Corta"A sane person to an insane society must appear insane." -Kurt Vonnegut "she wasn't living" She truly believed that she had found the meaning of life. Or rather, the meaning of her life. "there never was anything in her" For her, she wanted to spen...
