Mei ****

Voon had his arm intertwined with Mei’s. The couple walked at a leasurely pace. As they strolled, Voon held her hand. He looked at her hand, feeling over it. It was rough and calloused, almost scaly.
***
Voon held Mei’s hand lightly. The softness was unbelievable. He was almost afraid to hold her. She seemed so delicate and fragile. He looked at her lovely face. Flawless complexion. Immaculate features. He looked into her eyes. He could see a bright and beautiful future ahead for them.
***
As Voon felt Mei’s calloused palms, he looked at her shriveled face. She looked small and shrunken. Voon looked into her eyes. As he looked at her, everything she had done for him flashed in front of him. The years of cooking and cleaning and caring. The three beautiful children she had borne him, almost losing her life in delivering their firstborn. Day in and day out, slaving out of love and care. Her body had taken the punishment. As he looked at her, Mei looked up. But she did not see Voon. She was almost blind. And almost deaf too. But they didn’t need sight. Or words. They communicated at a more subtle level. To Voon, his wife looked more beautiful than ever.