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Roylsden #109

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The old woman looked towards Clint.
His first thought was 'it's not Ma Cody, it's a witch!' Her skin was yellowed by lamplight, her hair dishevelled and her eyes looked tiny in her puffy face. She looked like she'd aged fifty years since he'd seen her last.
"Oh Clint," she moaned and her eyes became glittery and bright as tears formed.
He tore his own eyes from her beseeching gaze and looked at the bed.
A tangle of blankets covered Anna so that all he saw of her was one arm as Old Ma Cody stroked her cold white hand.

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