Post 1596. Tuesday September 5
Each day she visits me. She’s a wonderful daughter. I changed my will yesterday, I've left her everything. After all, the others don't deserve it. She’s just brought me a glass of warm milk and my tablets. They are a different colour from my usual ones. She said the doctor changed them.
The old wooden rocking chair creaks as she gently sways him to and fro. His breathing slows, the glass slips from his hand and shatters on the stone parlour floor. He tries to say something, but the slurred words fade as he drifts away.
She won't need to visit anymore. A smile of satisfaction spreads across her face as she turns and walks away.
This week's photo prompt is by artycaptures