15 October

Dear Maxx

All I can remember tonight is sitting there in the hospital, months before he died, maybe even a year. Him in the hospital bed, me in the horrible, orange chair, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to feel. Separate from it all. And looking out the window, to the smooth concrete of a flat roof on some lower part of the building, and seeing a dance floor in the rain. That’s what I was thinking, how good it would be to dance there. Those thoughts make no sense to me.

It didn’t seem real, Maxx. He was so cheerful, so present. He wanted more food! And at the same time, I knew this was the best it would be. That we’d be here again and he would be worse. And then gone. I knew it, but it didn’t sink to the centre of me.

And so, tonight I wrap the ghost armour around myself as best I can, so that it becomes a kind of pod. A shield against everyone and everything. And I close myself in.

As always

the Ghost Knight.

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