His words gave me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room then to the door. I walked more than ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly. On the second day, both of us were more at ease with each other during the carrying process. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realised that I hadn't looked this intimately at her carefully for a long time. I realized she was no longer young anymore. There were some fine wrinkles on her face. On the third day, she whispered to me, "The outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there." On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vaguer. On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me about stuff around the house such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn't tell Dew about this. I felt it was easier to carry her with each passing day. Perhaps,
the workout everyday made me stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again,
I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand
to touch her head. Our son came in at the moment.
To him, seeing his father carry his mother out had become an essential part of his life.
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