"And it looks like the old man's getting on …"

The kitchen is cold and smells of coffee, a result of Nonno's jet lag that had him awake hours ago. In the sink, there is a plastic Visine cap, a strand of dental floss and a thick, corpse-gray nail clipping. An oily, black banana peel sits confused atop a pile of plastic in the recycling bin. This absurdity makes me laugh. It's become a good friend. He's become a good friend. Last night, we sat at the kitchen table and he talked in the dark because brightness hurts his eyes and rattles my nerves. I lit a candle for the shadows it casts and for the feeling of earth. Sipping red wine from a juice glass, I listened intensely as he told tales of deception and loss, regret and jubilation. He shared them like a warm, soft blanket meant for only two. I wrapped it around me and promised myself not to let go.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PekdeINQco