a couple of years ago, he visited his daughter.
on the stairs going down the basement, he fell. instead of breaking a few bones and getting away with it pretty easily, he landed on his neck and is now a quadriplegic. in his mid 70s, a quadriplegic.

the whole night, he laid there. he just laid there.

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in her early 90s, she was still remarkably healthy.
she lived on her own and aside from cooking, which she can’t really handle by herself, she was independent and was even able to take care of her dog. until three days ago. she started saying and doing unusually insensible things. the whole night, she didn’t sleep. she kept trying to get out of bed, worried about the dog which she said was just outside the room.

the whole night, she tried. she just kept trying.

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she looked way too old for her age.
only in her late 30s but looked way beyond that. traumatized by rape a few years ago, she was mentally tortured since then. too damaged to recover, always haunted by the demons of pain. i assumed not only the physical ones, but those that can’t be seen, those bruises that never heal. she was preoccupied with inappropriate words that gave me the chills and voice so loud that scared our ears.

the whole night, she yelled. she just kept yelling.

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three reasons why last night, at work, it was difficult for me to look at the glass and not say it was clearly half empty.