Apr 25

Alaskan Summer

Sunlight, Robert thought, is a glorious thing. Sunlight signified new days and new chances which he desperatley needed. The past few months had been a mess of dark days and even darker nights, for in an Alaskan winter, one seems to never awaken. Being stuck in a cramped bed in a cramped hospital in the largest state in America is quite ironic, Robert thought. He remembered yesterday. His granddaughter had presented him with a fridge magnet covered in scribbles. "Do you like it?" she had asked.
"No." Robert replied. Her mother had hit his arm gently and frowned. "What? I won't be here much longer. The truth won't do me any harm." 
"Where are you going grandpa?" The graddaughter asked, eyes welling with tears. 
"To a place with a whole hell of a lot less Alaskan winters." Robert said.
"Can I come too?"
"No," Robert replied, "But for me, one long Alaskan summer awaits."