5am 26th April 2019

In the witching hour when all is dark and still I come to believe my heart is a pin cushion. The pins are X-rays, doctors' words, nurses' faces full of pity, MacMillan leaflets, statistics, paracetamol, naproxen, morphine, fentanyl, "therapy" - radio radio radio chemo chemo chemo clinical trials. Spread. Spread. Spread. They should have should... Continue Reading →

5:30am 22nd February 2019

She realised she must be grateful for fucked up shit. They were still alive. Impossible thought! But in the early morning, she felt a new day. Blessing. The smell of onions on her washed hands was life now. They cooked together. Some days they chanted, cross-legged, closed-eyes, holding hands. Other days he'd walk. Deep breaths.... Continue Reading →

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