It was just a little piece of plastic but, it looked like glass in the sink. My brain went from ‘glass’ to ‘blood’ then straight to smelling the blood, feeling the clots bubbling out of me. Pure panic, my baby is dead!
L got me out of it, singing “titty birds”, my mind desperately trying to organise the laughter coming from the children. I said “yes, blue tits!” The children rolled around even more. Why were they laughing? M said “blue tits! Girl smurfs”! More laughter. I explained they were birds, children went upstairs, I poured myself a vodka lemonade. I need to stop the shaking.
16:04 in My last days on earth
Revised: 12/22/2019 9:26 p.m.
- Dec. 22, 2019, 6 a.m.
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- Public
Last updated December 22, 2019
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