PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

That’s all that’s left.  Pitiful for a life of so many years.  His final weeks had been humiliating, degrading, miserable.  She wished she could have changed that.

‘But you could have,’ an accusing voice whispered.  Guilt burned her soul.  ‘Would it have been so difficult to visit more often?  He was always so thrilled to see you; his withered face brightened at the prospect of a couple of hours’ company.  Weary, when you left, but rejuvenated, contented.  Selflessly, he never expected anything from you.  He accepted his lot without complaint.  Too late to change anything now. 

I’m so sorry, Dad.

Word Count: 100

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.