The floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the lush, green grass outside.
Great-grandfather sat in a cushioned chair, his head tilted slightly upward as he gazed at the scenery beyond the glass. A plush blanket was draped over his knees, and his hands, resting upon it, appeared gaunt and bony. Since the accident, Great-grandfather had withered away significantly; though he had regained consciousness, his mental state remained poor.
As a gentle breeze ruffled his pale hair, the phrase "flickering candle in the wind" crossed my mind. A wave of sorrow surged within me, and my nose stung as I choked out a soft, "Great-grandfather."
Chapter 129