“His bed was against the inner wall, and whenever his eyes opened they gazed at a square of sky, sometimes grey, sometimes blue. He lay on his back so that it was no effort to look at the sky, framed by the top part of the tall window. Its colour seemed to have something to do with his mood. When he was weary and sleepy, it was grey, but when he felt a bit brighter it was blue, and then the stiff dull aches of his body were not so tiresome. At first it was more comforting to be weary and sleepy;... but by degrees the blue became less bright, more tender, and he could gaze at it for long periods, forgetting his weariness, forgetting even to blink his eyes. He was glad when the doctor moved on or the nurse was finished with him, for then he could lie back and, after the turmoil of the visitation had subsided, could open his eyes and gaze at the sky with an added ease. He had not even to think of it as sky; in fact, he did not think of it at all: it was colour and light, far away and high up.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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