The sky was grey, and I could tell it was going to be a sad and lonely day, as always. I live alone in a flat, and my grandson comes sometimes. He's five, and he keeps me occupied and distracted from the daily happenings in a cold and empty place like mine. Sometimes, if it's a good day, it stops raining, but usually all I see is a string of water running down, like it never stops. My grandson always came home with a big smile on his face, always with the top front teeth missing. I never knew how or when he came, he just did. I was always scared that he wouldn't come; maybe he didn't like me anymore, like the rest of my family. He came at least once every week. I didn't hear the door's creak, I didn't hear his footsteps. I only saw him, sitting next to me while I lay down in my bed.

I turned the T.V on; I had nothing else to do. Ads for a laundry detergent, the background music of another channel playing loudly "I like big butts and I cannot lie," another channel with a soap opera playing. I liked soap operas; even though it was always the same story, with dramatic music in the background. It tensed me up, raising my blood pressure. It made me sick. So I went to the hospital when my nurse noticed I didn't open the door for her. Hospital was the only place I could meet people and socialise a little bit. It made me happy, but the thought of going back home made my face long again.

I waited as patiently as I could for my grandson, he made me happy. He's five, and he keeps me occupied and distracted from the daily happenings in a cold and empty place like mine. My grandson always came home with a big smile on his face, always with the top front teeth missing. I never knew how or when he came, he just did. I was always scared that he wouldn't come; maybe he didn't like me anymore, like the rest of my family.