The faded sepia face slips, slurs. Cold wrinkled fingers lose their grip. Colour washes wispy from the world, dims behind the slow curtain call of leaden eyelids. I reach for sad sharp shards of shattering memories, whirling deep into the eddying darkness. But there, gentle as a Mother’s kiss, a blinding white light approaches - joyfully.
This was written for 55 word challenge number 27 over at Jezri's Nightmares