Monday, October 31, 2022

Colours

His death coincided with the first day of my period. I was holding his hand and was sliding my eyes from his frowning forehead to his half open eyes, to his half open mouth, to the grubby collar of his light blue hospital shirt. Then back to the forehead, to the eyes, to the mouth, to the neck. 

The bedsheet under my hip was warm and discoloured by a growing stain of blood.

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