The next day after the funeral...
She sat as still as a statue in her ancient, dark gray chair. Maybe the chair wasn't even that gloomy. If you took a look at it yesterday - it was bright yellow. But since yesterday everything in her apartment seemed dull. An album with black and white photos was lying wide open on the floor. Some of the photos had spots on them. Drops of mourning and infinite grief. They were bitter tear drops which slowly ruined the happy cheerful faces. On many of them you could find a beautiful woman with a little baby boy in her hands. She had a wide smile on her face and her eyes sparkled like fireworks. The woman wasn't that beautiful anymore. In fact she looked appalling, the fireworks have ended. There will never be another smile on her face.
Relatives talking
- Well what did you expect? She is a dead woman walking. It's the biggest pain - to experience the death of your child.
- Do you think she still loves him? Do you think she is looking for excuses???
- Doesn’t matter what he did, he’s her son.
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