I picture a man, he's not young by any account. His hair is a forest of grey, his back is bent from carrying the weight of responsibilities. He walks with a stick. He's learnt to talk less and listen more. He smiles more often, and when he does, the creases on his face become more apparent. …
Tag: reflections
...when the people who have devoted their lives to entertain, inform and keep us alive eventually end up lying helplessly like spent like cartridges of a revolution, someone needs to lift them up the same way they lifted our spirits when we were low and warm their hearts the same way they warmed ours with their craft. When the curtains …
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