She’s wearing cherry-red lipstick. “Good morning, Mr. Wallace,” she says with a smile. She slowly walks over to my bedside. “Are you ready for...your sponge bath?” “Oh, certainly, nurse,” I reply, already feeling the stiffness in my crotch. I sit up on the bed and just look at her for a minute, roving my eyes up and down her body. “But I think it would be better if I gave you a sponge bath.” She looks a little surprised and says, “Oh, Mr. Wallace, I don’t need a sponge bath. I’m not the patient. They had been gone only three months, it was my first time to come inside. Opening the door the odors immediately took me to a child again. The lemon smell almost caused me to cry. Starch, cleanliness engulfed my senses. I was there to gather a few things from the attic. Walking up the cranky stairs brought back memories. I found myself close to tears. Opening the door I saw the camel back trunk and walked quickly to it. Lifting the lid I saw the crocheted scarfs. Moving them I found the enamel. More

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