Contemporaneous: Chapters 23 – 24
23. Like when the car hit me, there’s no pain. But there is a sudden sense of shearing, of weight falling from me until all the aches of being almost fifty, the pain in my foot and leg, the tiredness in my body, and the inebriation in my head, shred, like they’re nothing more than tissue paper holding me, and I’m immersed in a thick grey mist. And I see everything because, as the cliché goes, it’s almost like life flashing before my eyes, but instead it’s a rapid recount: my birth; running happily around as a kid; school and my first teacher, am amputee without a right hand, which…
Contemporaneous: Chapters’ 6 & 7
6. I never knew when I went from somebody who enjoyed working, who looked forward to editing and writing, to somebody who worked to pay the bills, and looked forward to the weekend for some respite, and writing became a habit, like smoking, that I just kept doing because it had become so ingrained in my life. Once I get home, I lay on my bed, and try to let my mind wander. When I was younger – like in my twenties – I used to be able to just let go, and let my mind wander without focus or direction, without needing to explore any thought that cropped up,…
Search