poured out before bed
There are little dimples in her sagging cheeks, a tribute to the youth that composes her age. She has one of the most genuine smiles I’ve ever seen, a kindness and cheer that envelopes from chin to widow’s peak and blazes forward to interrogate neighbors’ features for shows of joy. Her whole body, in fact, seems to spring toward one in attempt to share her eager content, to tell of her secret to effortless mirth. She impresses as one of those rare persons who can make do with just any lot, anything life casts her way, salt or sweet. True to form, she is still smiling, still springing, still sweetening when he tells her she has inoperable cancer.
– Step 2 CK Throw Back, From Surgery