THERE he walks, one unsteady step at a time, one hand holding an umbrella, the other clutching a bag. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. He sees a little with one eye, hears a little with one ear. I don’t know why I am alive.”Such is his sorrow. Is there good in sorrow?
Source: New Strait Times January 13, 2018 01:52 UTC