I Can Hear You
They each pulled every string they could, begging me to visit them one last time.
The letters they sent were written in messy, frantic handwriting, every page covered with apologies. However, I didn’t believe they were truly sorry. They were just afraid of dying.
Perhaps in those final days, as they waited for death, they would keep reflecting, keep begging in their hearts for my forgiveness. As for me, I would finally push through the fog of my life and start anew.