His bitter sneer hid the sadness of his heart as he stared at the rock star on the screen in front of him.
“That was supposed to be me,” he spat. “Not him. Not Bob.”
“C’mon now love, eat your dinner.”
“No Ma, it’s not…” his voice croaked and he took a deep breath, dragging the tears back inside. “It’s not right.” His crooked hand shook violently as it rested on the arm of his chair, and he blinked his one open eye, the other forever welded shut.
“I know love, I know,” she said sadly as she moved the spoon of soup towards his trembling mouth. “Now eat up.”
He dutifully opened his mouth and slurped the hot soup from the spoon, a dribble running down his chin.