posted on Mar, 4 2009 @ 12:38 PM
I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I looked with a grimace at the questionable meal wormwood had placed in front of me. Of
course, I would never tell him how disgusted I was with his cooking, but somehow I think he knew. Wormwood had always been full of energy and life,
but lately I had begun to grow more aware of his aging. The bright, exuberant eyes that I had fallen in love with were now beginning to grow dull and
listless with the long fatigue of a weary life.