Evelyn’s POV
It was a breezy Sunday morning; a hot chocolate on our coffee table, birds chirping around our ears, and a lovely deep conversation. It was just you and me, eyeing a scenic view. Feeling the wind through our window with a curtain sewed by your tired hands; without hesitation of giving me succor and to others as well.
For a few minutes, we had maintained a profound silence. A sense of disquiet in your face is all I can see. But you gave me a look, you smiled at me, and your smile speaks for “You do not have to worry about me.” I am stuck with it, not with your smile but with your courage pervaded by your spirit. You covered me with assurances that this world has a chance. But why are we still hurting? Why can’t we recover?
The following day you were making breakfast.
