Face the Sun

She faces towards the open window. One arm hangs over the bedrail. A wispy strand of thin white hair moves in the breeze. The afternoon breeze follows the stifling heat during the day. The open window allows the cool breeze to flow over her. She stares at the window. She no longer speaks. Although looking into her eyes you feel she still knows what happens around her. In the mornings, she gets out of bed, then returns to bed before lunch. They come and turn her over. When they finish she looks back at the window.