by Liat Katz

Wordless Tea

She smells like sour milk and she looks like loneliness. I am tasked with meeting her and coming up with a written plan. She is all of 80 pounds sitting on a faded-pink wingback chair and wearing only a tattered top. No underwear, no pants, just a camisole. I hold her 90-year-old wrinkled hand and look at her. The dangling skin from her thighs looks like old white shirts draped on metal hangers.

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The Refusal of Time: Visiting the Old Old

The articles in this special section:

Wordless Tea

by Liat Katz

The Gingham Dresses

by Alisha Kaplan

Reading “Dear Abby” in Massachusetts

by Jayne Lampert

As told to Susan Schnur