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“John's mother lay dying. Her once‐delicate nose jutted from her shrunken cheeks, spider‐ webbed with wrinkles and spotted with age. She turned her face into the shadows, seeming to be unwilling to show him the wreck that had once been a lovely face.” — BJ Sikes
John's mother lay dying. Her once‐delicate nose jutted from her shrunken cheeks, spider‐
webbed with wrinkles and spotted with age. She turned her face into the shadows, seeming to be
unwilling to show him the wreck that had once been a lovely face.