"Hush now," the old, huddled woman murmurs, reaching for the plate of cookies she's prepared that sits waiting on the coffee table. Holding it out, her eyes grow smaller as if to balance her growing smile. These bakes goods here, they're her pride and joy. Nothing can distract anyone from this fact, not even the paper thin skin, nor the wrinkled old lips or the slicked back, almost starch white hair.

"Have a cookie, dearie. You'll feel better in no time."