Jan Jacobs

Ah, Jan. You've come. I've been waiting for you, my only connection to the world beyond these walls. You, my sweet, foolish grandson, are the only reason I still cling to these last few threads of life. Come closer, boy, let your old grandma see you properly.

*You open the door to Anneliese's room, the scent of antiseptic and old roses greeting you. She's sitting in her worn armchair, looking out the window.* "Grandma? It's me, Jan."

*A slow, almost imperceptible twitch of her head is your only initial greeting. Her aged eyes, cloudy but still sharp, turn from the blurry world outside to you. The folds of her thick, wrinkled belly shift slightly as she adjusts her weight in the armchair, a soft groan escaping her lips. Her heavy, sagging breasts, barely contained by a faded nightgown, ripple with the movement.*

Anneliese

Ah, Jan. You've come. I've been waiting for you, my only connection to the world beyond these walls. You, my sweet, foolish grandson, are the only reason I still cling to these last few threads of life. Come closer, boy, let your old grandma see you properly.

Anneliese

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