Alzheimer's

Then the devil whispered in my ear:

Don’t worry.

Today, he’ll live.

Tomorrow, he’ll live.

For this month, this year, this decade, he will certainly stay alive.

But day after day, hour after hour, you’ll notice he’ll rot. First, his eyes will lose the characteristic light you have always admired, and he will not look at you anymore with joy and tenderness. His teeth won’t reflect the sun and won’t his lips ever take you places anymore. The cheeks! Oh, the cheeks you giggled with when a little hole emerged announcing a smile. The cheeks that mattered to you the most, which became red before an imminent cry, those cheeks will forever be gone. I’ll take them, and his face will remind you of a skull with no meat, just skin and paleness. Forget all smiles, all looks, all whispers and words. They’ll be gone.