In the end, he opened the photo album. He looked through the pictures one by one and stopped at his favorite one—a group photo taken long ago, when he was still a boy, with his young mother and father beside him. But his father was long gone never to return, and his mother was old.
Elvis remembered the past days and cried himself to sleep, murmuring “mom, wait for me.”
Inside the room, Lucy spoke to Dylan for a whole night.
The next morning, Elvis was woken up by the clatter of kitchenware. After stretching himself, he was a little bit sober. In the morning, the sunshine shone in through the hole of the lid, which lighted up the well slightly and sent the signal that the night was gone, and a new day began.
“Elvis, come here for breakfast,” Lucy called him. It was obvious that she had
