Reibus

February 2019 - How do you feel as you grow up, get old, lose your family and friends? Did you love your parents? Where are they? Did you have a dog you loved? Alice wondered... Darling Mum It's ten years since I left you, five years since I saw you... and far too long since you've written to me. I don't even know where to send my letters for you now. I have written to you quite a lot, at least recently. I miss you every day, every week, every year. I wish I knew where you are. You were the angel of my childhood. You were passionate and sensitive, you cared for me, took me out, dressed me up. You made beautiful dresses for me, you massaged me, you brushed my hair, you danced with me, you walked with me. As you grew old I became a carer for you, cherished you. I rubbed your feet, I brushed your hair: such soft and beautiful grey hair! We talked together and laughed together. But I know, as I grew up and visited you less, you became lonely. Your love for dad seemed to

She starts crying. Deeply. Painfully. Shuddering sobs which grip her whole body. Her t-shirt soaks in her tears, clings onto her body, reveals the small little tummy roll, shows off her nipples. She sweats but doesn't even notice it; drips out of her hair, under her arms, between her legs. The clock silently ticks by. 17 minutes when she can't cry any more. She rolls into a ball, as if she is an embryo, tucks her elbows in beside her, crosses her feet. She has a very bad headache; she ignores it. Her eyes are very sore; she keeps them closed. She concentrates on her breathing, and it takes her quite a few minutes to get her ordinary deep breath back. She has to get her pulse down, she thinks. 30 minutes when she opens her eyes. She knows she has to think about this. So often it happens. Something probably really small got her pulse up. Most times nothing else will happen, she can get it down, be "normal". But if the second thing happens while she holds her breath