I find my grandfather sitting in the library. His hair is thin now, and rumpled like the unmatched jacket, tie and trousers he wears each day. His leather-bound classics and signed first editions carefully arranged on golden oak shelves have been replaced by discounted hard covers and well-worn paperback novels haphazardly crammed into pock-marked bookcases from IKEA. I watch the old man as he lovingly fingers each page of the book he holds. His sight and mind are gone but he is happy as he sits on the vinyl-covered chair in the nursing home and visits with an old friend.
(Photo by Claire Fuller. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Friday Fictioneers. April 24, 2013.)