Saturday's Storyteller: "I watched as her sleeping form slowly moved up and down in time with her breathing."
by Belinda Roddie I watched as her sleeping form slowly moved up and down in time with her breathing. She was beyond beautiful. Her tangled hair lay in mossy, brown-blonde clumps against the pillow, her hand still gripping the fuzzy arm of a teddy bear that had belonged to her for many, many years. Her other arm was around me, stiff and insistent, her palm pressed almost compassionately against my chest. Anna had been completely blind for nearly two years now, and since then, she absolutely hated to sleep alone. I certainly was not against being beside her - after all, I needed her almost as much as she needed me, just for different reasons. When she wasn't dreaming, her eyes, though glazed with a faint fog like you were overlooking San Francisco from a ferry, were still a gorgeous green that captivated me every time I gazed into them. Whether or not she could do so, I know that Anna wanted to gaze back. I had become her caretaker when she had first started losing her sig