“Annette!” He whispered fiercely from undernearth his umbrella. “Look at them.” There was no mistaking the awe in his voice.
Frankie always said stuff like that now: Annette, the sky is so blue today; look at it! Annette, the birds wings; look at them! Annette, Annette, Annette…
“I see the drops, Frankie,” I whispered back; how could I not?
“No, the people. They…don’t notice things. How come people don’t notice things until they’re dying?”
“I don’t know, Frankie,” I replied sadly.
And, I scooted closer to him so I could rub his bald head.