One Shot: Little Glances
Little glances. She's nervously checking her watch. The one her father gave her on her 13th birthday. The one that stopped running the day he had died in her second year of college when a black cancer ate him from the inside out like a corrupted worm. She'd worn it in his memory every day since. A gentle, warm reminder of his endearing love. Until five days ago on her 45th birthday when she discovered the lump in her breast. And the watch grew cold as the time started ticking again.













