Signs

Not long after my mother died, my father lay disconsolate in a darkened hotel room begging his deceased wife to send him a sign. Wherever she was in her ghostly habitat, would she please smuggle him some affirmation of their enduring love? Suddenly, the overhead light switched on. Other people…

from # All Medicine by Alexandros G. Sfakianakis via alkiviadis.1961 on Inoreader http://ift.tt/2wi2H7Q