“You must sing for me,” she said. “I’m dying, after all.” Ms. N. was sitting on her vast white sofa, frail among the cushions, enveloped in a pink dressing gown that paled next to the fuchsia of her lipstick. She was partially silhouetted by the late November sun from the wall of windows behind…
Last Song — Sharing Humanity while Maintaining Boundaries
“You must sing for me,” she said. “I’m dying, after all.” Ms. N. was sitting on her vast white sofa, frail among the cushions, enveloped in a pink dressing gown that paled next to the fuchsia of her lipstick. She was partially silhouetted by the late November sun from the wall of windows behind…