Sunday 13th February
Then this morning when I am sitting on the toilet, my bowels more shy than stubborn I see the spots of blood in my pants. It isn't much but suddenly you ever being there is like a momentary dream. I feel a grief like pulse coarsing through me. Your Dad rushes through and kneels before me. He presses his head against mine. I can't hear what he is saying but I look into his eyes stinging red and glazing with a film of tears.
Then this morning when I am sitting on the toilet, my bowels more shy than stubborn I see the spots of blood in my pants. It isn't much but suddenly you ever being there is like a momentary dream. I feel a grief like pulse coarsing through me. Your Dad rushes through and kneels before me. He presses his head against mine. I can't hear what he is saying but I look into his eyes stinging red and glazing with a film of tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment