José’s life was changing, but it was still very much his own.
His grandson, Bruno, brought him out to run errands for a breath of fresh air and for an occasional barber run. He’s gotten older and frailer, but he still does things his own way. He would listen to the game on the radio instead of on the television, and he would eat a fried pastry if he wanted to.
His life closed in on him slowly, when his health started to restrain his freedom.
Bruno learnt how to shave when José couldn’t visit the neighbourhood barbershop anymore.
He learnt how to hold an old-school blade while his grandpa and grandma held their breaths, afraid that Bruno would get under José’s skin.
He drew blood, but it was all that mattered.