Sensations drift migrate. Pain makes colonies. Like capital it digs exploits, and moves on. Then the long healing.
"Cold Tiles Soft Steps"
16 days ago I called for help. Then crumpled into my hallway. Voices dim light. Lifted carried rolled. Two operations then four,...I think.
"...Soft Steps"
Pale memories. Brief moments.
All this happened. Is happening is always happening.
Yet so little remembered.
"...Cold Tiles"
There is no sequential narrative yet.
Stay Tuned.
Sidney what the hell happened- please call us back. We keep leaving you voicemail. XO Pickles
ReplyDeleteI am sorry to hear of your health problems. Uncle Sidney your voice and your words are a glimpse of hope in a darkening world.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteIt's alright Susan. It still good to know you're there, and remember. Bless you.
ReplyDeleteHi Sidney. Get well soon, best wishes!xx
ReplyDelete