Million things

Eyes not on paper.

Feeling tired.

No energy for phone calls or texts.


Sleeping dog on the bed. Wising I could hide under the covers too.


My dad is going for chemo tomorrow. Also on the table, are talks about MAID. His wife, in a text, urges us to support him and not make a scene.

Her words infuriate me.

Her words are harsh and unthoughtful, and I wish a million things were not as they were.