This I think is worth a return flight.




The extraordinarily lovely youngest daughter of a matriarch in her eighties who lived with the latter, she with the clearest brown eyes and smoothest white pinkish skin called me up one night complaining that her mother had been crying incessantly (sometimes with tears she was scared her Mommy might get dehydrated and sometimes without). She said she, (the daughter) had been irritated by all the sobbing and whining. Her mother would cry before breakfast only to hush while eating breakfast and then cry again until the next meal. This cycle went on and on and on for a week until she could no longer endure the senseless sobbing which interrupted the daughter’s sleep she had to take a leave from her work in the family corporation.

I went to visit them the following morning. The daughter was seated on an ottoman in one corner of the high ceiling…

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