By Mark J Russo
Naomi, a recent resident at White Oaks Assisted Living, sits in the hallway bay. She scans the vacant green lawn outside and begins to hum an old country song, trying unsuccessfully to shield against voices that billow from Mat’s room at the end of the hall.
His door stands wide open so that air flows freely about the room, ushering the musky scent into the hall: a step he took to accommodate three people simultaneously moving about and breathing. He leans against the grey wrought iron bed that his great grandfather bought after arriving in Tennessee from Scotland. Mat, with the exception of his incipient senility, has aged well; stands erect; a thinning mane of salt and pepper hair; slim build; crisp bright brown eyes; and an unforced smile. It’s just that his fingers have begun to curl inward, and he doesn’t think he can make the clear mountain water flow from the banjo like he used to.[Read more…] about The Century Plant