aaron gayah

just a personal photo blog and journal.


All these questions about work, travel. She didn't care to speak to any of that so she answered drily, offering single word responses wherever she could. Her disinterest, however, was sorely unnoticed as was her presence in his company, the one she came to visit. Not that she's surprised - it had always been like that and there was no reason to hope for a change now. And yet still she was still peering over her right shoulder into the dimly-lit living room yearning for an inkling of attention. Anything. A mere acknowledgement that she existed maybe? Or maybe that was a bit much to ask. This thirty-year-old was reduced to a child.

Anyway, she figured it was probably time she said a few words so she knelt to his left, her hand resting softly on his. She felt the age in his touch and the gesture for some reason triggered emotions of bewilderment and panic, causing him to search the room for familiar faces. Apparently he knew not who she was - not that it mattered really. He had dismissed the very existence of her and her brothers from ever since and they accepted that. It was ironic how a decision once deliberate had manifested itself as part of his senile reality. 

Eventually he did calm down and his eyes of hazel would thereafter rise to hers, albeit with a sense of caution. Then he stared at her, consciously, for what would be the first time ever. His expression was the very epiphany of childlike innocence; sans ignorance, sans impatience, and sans any and everything negative that she associated him with. And the truth is that she had accepted him for the person that he was for a long time now, and now she's thinking that maybe this was his chance to do likewise. And maybe he did.