COLD HANDS
Her hands were so cold. Tears kept rolling down as I recalled the days when they were warm. I remembered how those hands used to curdle me as a boy. Now it's just a piece of flesh. My mind flashed back to the last time I held those hands and felt the warmth. That was three years ago when I last spared time to visit. Her grey hair had increased, her skin was wrinkled and her sight had deemed. With a stammering voice she asked: "When will I see you again?" "Soon mama, soon" I replied "How soon? I wouldn't be here forever" Those where her last words to me as I rushed away, I had work to do. But now I wished I had taken those words more seriously. I worked in a bank and I was at the top of my game at reaching the peak of my career. Four years consecutively, I had received the award of the most dedicated and resourceful staff in my bank; I had never been so proud. But all that doesn't matter anymore. Staring at my mother and caressing her han