Progression Of Life
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Transcript of Progression Of Life
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Introduction
This Anthology was created with the intention of demonstrating the
universal theme of the journey through life. The first section comprises a
selection of poems written around the theme of childhood. This style of
writing was chosen because we felt that it most closely reflected this
period of life. Certain poetic forms can better communicate the lyricism
and creativity of the childish mind better than prose, which could not
represent that age without sacrificing its sophistication.
Prose we reserved for adult life, where complex turns of phrase are
most appropriate, and a prosaic form best represents the ‘dullness’ of
post-adolescent life. The teenage period of life we chose to explore using
script, given the dramatic, theatrical overtones that puberty has, and the
melodramas that teenagers indulge in. The use of script also led the focus
to be on the awkwardness of adolescent speech and communication,
which we considered the most significant aspect to concentrate on.
This structure of three parts to life enables us to cover the theme of
growing into maturity in its entirety, with only a few short pieces, while
retaining a cohesive feel to the anthology as a whole. The result is a
collection of writing that represents not one person, but many.
Cover illustration by Scarlet Judkins
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I want a dog
I want a dog,
But mummy said no.
I want a dog,
But daddy said no.
“I promise I’ll look after it,” I said,
But they both said NO!
I will take him for a walk,
And teach him how to talk.
I will make sure he’s clean,
I can assure you I’m keen.
I will wash him and clean him,
And I’ll take him for a trim.
I have saved up my money,
But mum says ‘That’s funny’.
I will buy him special clothes to wear,
Like a very cuddly teddy bear.
I will buy him lots of doggy treats,
And make him fat with extra food to eat.
I want a dog that will love me,
I want a dog that will be there for me,
A dog that will stand by me,
Forever.
Bethan Wheeler
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A Brief Pause
Take me to the Bakery on Walnut Road,
Jam Tarts red and yellow.
Yellow is best if you can get it;
it’s rarer.
A treat on Monday when Nanny collects you
Swapping hands from hot to cold.
Swim your way across green carpet
to Crème Caramel
Jelly on a plate.
Harriet Fox
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Learning to Ride a Bike Stabilisers removed, on two wheels from four.
Dad shouts to pedal hard, my feet leave the floor.
Faster I ride. Harder I push.
Then Dad lets go, and I fall into a bush.
'You let go!' I shout.
Tears begin to flood.
I scramble to my feet, covered head to toe in mud.
Dad laughs aloud and lets out a sigh.
'I'll never learn to ride a bike!'
Sobbing, I continue to cry.
Kayleigh Howes
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The Epic Poem of Matthew
Behold! I am the mightiest warrior Known as Matthew, son of Dad Conqueror of all others Bane of invisible zombies My enemies fear my wrath For I can wield a Nerf N-Strike! There is nothing I cannot do I am a cowboy astronaut I have won tournaments Of Football, and Death My strength is legendary I can lift even my older brother I have climbed mountains And leapt over the lava floor No man has ever breached The walls of my pillow fort Yet though I am clearly the best of all I can never conquer my greatest foe The evil, the powerful, the very worst The monster that is homework!
Jack Basson
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Sonnet for a Teacher Mrs Smith stands at the front of the class, Waving good morning as we take our seats. She always smiles at me as I walk past, And chooses me to hand around the sheets. I’m going to marry Mrs Smith one day, And we will live together in a house. Where we can eat ice cream all day and play, As a pet we will take the classroom mouse. When I told my mum she said it was cute, Which I think must mean she gives her blessing. She even suggested I buy a suit! But my dad said she was only messing. I don’t care what others say about me, Mrs Smith and I are going to be.
Laura Charles
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MISUNDERSTANDING
Bethan Wheeler Charlotte
Harriet Fox Marcus
Kayleigh Howes Lizzie
Laura Charles Sam
Jack Basson Felix
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CHARACTERS
SAM Girlfriend of FELIX. Cares for her little
brother.
FELIX Boyfriend of SAM. Clingy towards SAM.
CHARLOTTE Supports SAM. Strong minded.
LIZZIE Supports FELIX. Gossip.
MARCUS Neutral. More concerned with own problems.
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SETTING
The courtyard of a secondary school in South East
England.
TIME
The end of a school day. The Present.
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ACT I, SCENE 1
(A courtyard of a secondary school at the end of a school
day. FELIX sits alone on a bench. His girlfriend SAM is
approaching. Felix doesn’t see Sam coming. Sam sits next
to him.)
FELIX
Hey.
SAM
Hey Felix.
FELIX
Looking forward to the party tonight, Sam? It’s
gonna be amazing. Can’t wait to see everyone.
SAM
(Beat)
Yeah. I feel like I haven’t seen Katie in ages.
FELIX
Well, you haven’t seen me either.
SAM
What do you mean, I saw you yesterday.
FELIX
For like 5 seconds.
SAM
Felix I did see you, and it was about an hour. I
know it wasn’t long but I did see you.
FELIX
Sam, I’m not trying to be petty, I just wish we
could hang out, more, like just us two?
SAM
Yeah. But, we have. We do. We always do.
FELIX
No we don’t. There’s last week…
SAM
Felix, are you still on about me cancelling?
Look, I’ve told you I’m sorry. I had to look
after my little brother.
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FELIX
This isn’t just about your brother Sam, it’s
about all of the times you’ve cancelled.
Enter MARCUS.
MARCUS
Hey guys.
(He receives no response)
Guys? Is everything ok?
SAM
Yeah.
(Beat)
Everything’s fine thanks Marky. Still coming to
Katie’s party later?
MARCUS
Yeah, course. How you guys getting there? You
going together?
FELIX
Yeah, we always do… why?
MARCUS
Just wondering that’s all.
(Pause)
Guys, seriously, what’s wrong?
FELIX
Honestly, nothing. Have you seen Charlotte and
Lizzie?
MARCUS
Yeah, about 10 minutes ago, coming out of the
library. They should be here soon.
SAM
Oh, speak of the devils, they’re here.
(smiles at Charlotte and Lizzie)
Enter CHARLOTTE and LIZZIE.
CHARLOTTE
Hey gang. You all best be going to Katie’s
later. It’s gunna be epic!
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MARCUS
Definitely.
CHARLOTTE
Great stuff. Sam? Felix?
FELIX
Yeah, we’re going.
CHARLOTTE
What’s wrong with you guys?
SAM
Nothing, we’re fine.
CHARLOTTE
Are you sure?
LIZZIE
Charlotte, leave it.
MARCUS
Seriously, what is going on? Why am I always
the last to know about everything?
SAM
Nothing is going on! Look, all that happened
was that Felix and I couldn't go to the cinema
because I had to look after my brother. That's
it. Now can we talk about something else
please?
FELIX
What she means is that she prefers to spend
time with her brother more than me and because
of that, we haven’t actually spent time with
each other properly in like a month.
(Blackout.)
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ACT 1, SCENE 2
(Lights up. SAM is centre stage.)
SAM
I really can’t believe Felix sometimes, I mean like, just
because I couldn’t meet up to go to the cinema with him
the other day. I had to look after my little brother, I
told him that. And yeah I know it was last minute, but I
wasn’t to know my mum would be called into work. It’s not
like we can turn down extra cash. Anyway, I had to look
after my brother, so I phoned Felix straight away to tell
him. Granted it was half an hour before we were supposed
to meet, but it was as soon as I knew. You see Connor,
that’s my little brother; he’s got a cold and so had to
be looked after, not to mention he’s seven! After Felix
tried to name some people that I could in his words ‘fob
him off on’ he then went on to suggest that we take him
to the park. Connor has a cold for crying out loud. I
mean I guess I can see where Felix is coming from, I
understand why he might be a bit annoyed about cancelling
the plans, but he was never like this before we started
going out. It’s not like I’ve only just started
babysitting my little brother, I’ve probably put Connor
to bed more times than Dad has. I didn’t think Felix
would change this much after I agreed to go out with him.
I mean sure I knew our relationship would change, I’m not
stupid, but I’m not sure if I like the change. We were
always so close as friends, and now I feel like we are
drifting away from each other a bit.
(Blackout.)
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ACT1, SCENE 3
(Lights up. FELIX is centre stage.)
FELIX
I'm serious, you know, when I say it's not about last
weekend. It's not even about the cancelling in general,
really. I mean, I know there are reasons for it, so it's
only sensible to accept it and deal with it, right? I get
it, I do. What this is really about is whether or not Sam
really wants to be going out or not, 'cause I can't tell
anymore. With anyone, even, not just me. Don't get me
wrong, I don't think she fancies anyone else, but I don't
believe she fancies me, either. If she does... She could
make a bit more of an effort, I guess. It's just that I'm
always the one setting up dates, and she always blocks my
suggestions to get around whatever problem is preventing
them. It wouldn't be so difficult if she would try to
tell her parents I'm not interested in knocking her up or
anything creepy like that, but she doesn't think it's
worth a try, so there goes any chance of sleeping over.
It'd be nice to have some advance notice, too. This one
time I went to see a rom-com alone, 'cause she only
texted like twenty minutes before it was on. I had two
tickets and everything. That was the most awkward thing I
have ever lived through, I swear, but two boxes of
popcorn made up for it, kinda. The point is, I'm doing
all the relationship-things. If she doesn't want to be in
one, that's okay with me, it really is. I just wish she'd
say so, so that I can stop being stood up all the time.
But I'm afraid if I ask her about it in those words, I'll
be right...
(Blackout.)
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ACT1, SCENE 4
(Lights up. CHARLOTTE is centre stage.)
CHARLOTTE
Seriously? Felix needs to give Sam a break! He does have
a point that Sam is with her little brother all of the
time, but he knows all of the difficulties that she has
with her little brother and she can’t help that. Of
course she wants to have a life and go to the cinema and
hang with her friends but she loves her little brother
more than anything and will always put him first. And she
can’t even hang with her friends anymore because Felix
wants her all to himself. I miss her. We used to go out
all of the time by ourselves and with everyone but we
can’t even do that anymore. But I do accept that when her
brother needs her, she needs to stay with him. And who
can blame her for that?
I just don’t understand why Felix is being so clingy.
He’s been clingy from the very start of the relationship
and the others can’t even see that. I don’t even know
where Lizzie is coming from, she thinks that Sam is
ignoring Felix but that’s just rubbish. Sam isn’t
ignoring Felix, it’s just that he literally wants to be
with her all of the time, texts her all of the time and
wants to know where she is, what she is doing and why all
of the bloody time. Felix is an awesome friend but a very
difficult boyfriend and the poor girl needs a break. But
he just can’t see that.
(Blackout.)
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ACT1, SCENE 5
(Lights up. CHARLOTTE is centre stage.)
LIZZIE
I don't understand why Sam won't spend time with Felix!
He's such an amazing guy, seriously! If he was my
boyfriend, I wouldn't spend even a minute away from him.
Why can't Sam see how great he is? To be honest, I think
it's mainly Marcus's fault. I mean, I've seen the way she
looks at him. She blanks Felix whenever Marcus is around.
She's even got a stupid little pet name for him!
(Sarcastically) 'Hi Marky', urgh...she calls him that all
the time, it's so annoying! (Sighs) Yeah, Marcus is
pretty hot, but still, he's not a patch on Felix.
I know Sam still likes Felix a lot, like, she wouldn't be
his girlfriend if she didn't, and she's supposed to be my
best friend, but...(pauses for a second) I wish she would
just snap out of this petty crush on Marcus! I think Sam
has even started to lie to Felix about what she's doing
when they aren't together! (In a high mocking tone) 'I
had to look after my brother'...yeah right!!! I promised
I wouldn't tell, but someone told me that Sam had ditched
Felix to spend time with Marcus! What the hell?! I would
never do anything like that, ever! I feel so bad for
Felix, he hasn't got a clue what's going on. I really
want to tell him the truth, but I can't. Sam would kill
me, and it would totally ruin our friendship group!
(Blackout.)
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ACT1, SCENE 6
(Lights up. MARCUS is centre stage.)
MARCUS
I knew this would happen. I held my tongue time and time
again and now... Who can be bothered with relationships,
who has the time? Y’know , sometimes I feel like the only
one here who has more important things to think about.
It’s just like mum was saying; now is the time for
thinking about my future. Having meaningless
relationships isn’t the priority... It’s hard not to get
involved though. Felix has been my friend since the first
day of year seven and Sam is great, really great in fact,
I know but... It’s just bought out the worst in both of
them.
Not to mention as usual I’m left out of the loop. And
why? Do they like me less? Do they think I can’t be
trusted? O I don’t even care anymore! They can do
whatever they want, they’re children and I don’t want to
be involved in their silly games. It’s like they’re all
letting this relationship het in the way of what’s really
important. Felix hasn’t been applying himself to his work
in ages and the girls don’t seem to talk about anything
else. I won’t let it get in my way though. I’m not
stupid. It’s just like mum says; I’ll be employing them
to work for me later in life.
(Blackout.)
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Finding Motivation
Motivation is something that doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m sure
that is the case for most students, but for some reason, I lack it entirely.
Just taking a glance at my waste paper basket will demonstrate this. It’s
full to the brim and overflowing. Balled pieces of paper spill across the
carpet, each with a single word or an incomplete sentence. Rubbish. I kick
off from my desk and do a single spin on my office chair. The dull image of
my bedroom flashes before my eyes, a gloomy vortex which makes me
slightly nauseated. I notice my cluttered desk, unmade bed and the heap of
dirty laundry that is piled high in the corner, still waiting to be washed. I
sigh heavily, thinking about the hopelessness of my situation. I can’t even
find the motivation to wash my clothes, let alone write an entire essay. I
hunch over the disorderly work space, letting my head hit the wooden
surface with a thump. The point of impact on my forehead started to throb.
Maybe a little sleep will help me feel better? I could wake up feeling
refreshed and then make a start on my task. I always use this suggestion,
knowing full well that when I wake up it will be too late to get started.
‘There’s always tomorrow’, is another thing that I constantly repeat to
myself. The idea of another day ahead of me is always a reassuring thing,
but then again, today is one tomorrow less already. Somehow I always
manage to spend more time thinking about doing my essays than I actually
do writing them. Then the realisation started to sink in. If I just stop trying
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to think of excuses to put off my writing, and just get on with it, then I may
actually finish it. Motivation has surfaced in my head, finally. I light a
cigarette to help me concentrate, scrape away the clutter from my desk
and grab the nearest pen. I will get this done.
Kayleigh Howes
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Playing House
This morning the state of the kitchen has forced me to a new low.
Simply lacking in time to deal with the practically swaying piles of dirty
dishes; my breakfast consists of toast, buttered using the back of my last
clean teaspoon and served on an ‘improvised plate’, also known as a
chopping board.
Admittedly, we will soon have reached the point of no return. The
surfaces have become, what I can only describe as… crispy, and I am
beginning to feel personally offended by the presence of a rogue jam
covered knife of which no one is willing to admit ownership. It has been
sitting upon the draining board since our second week of living here. I
place the empty carton of spread on top of the overflowing bin; I am not
the first to have done so this morning.
Deciding that I will be at less risk of contracting some kind of life
threatening disease if I actually consume the food elsewhere, I suppress
my wretches and push past the leaking rubbish bags piled high by the
door. Careful not to drop my precariously balanced haul I make my way
into my, not spotless, but hopefully salmonella free bedroom.
It is difficult to remember just exactly how we managed to get to such a
low point. It had all started so well, a little bit like playing house in the
school playground. Oh what novelty there was to be found in mopping and
dusting. I almost considered purchasing an apron at one point. However,
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as time passes on and the realisation that you have to spend your evening
attempting to scrub dried out spaghetti from a colander begins to set in,
the whole business loses its charm rather quickly. In other words; playing
house is a lot more fun than living it.
As I nibble rather despondently at my toast, I consider that the state of
the kitchen is nothing when you think about the concoctions we produce
in it. Since living here I have witnessed the combination of Pizza topped
with baked beans and have myself sunk so low as to consider cheese,
partially melted onto a slice of toast in the microwave, a hearty meal. I had
such assumptions of what my life away from home would be. I envisaged
myself inviting friends around and cooking for them in the manner of
some sort of domestic goddess. As it is I will only allow people in if I’m left
with absolutely no other choice, and find that all I can do is apologise, red
faced, for the mess and hope that they will leave as soon as is humanly
possible.
The time has come to be pro-active. I can’t possibly allow this
malignant mess to interfere with my social life any longer, today I must
pick up the bottle of Cif and conquer all my fears. I grab my empty
chopping board and confidently make my way back into the kitchen, then
stop. The dishes still sway and the bin still bulges and here I stand in a
state of total apathy. I put down the chopping board and get my coat.
Harriet Fox
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Fragmented Thoughts
It didn't make enough sense.
Mark gazed at the TV screen, his face expressionless. The news told
him to care that a celebrity whose name he did not recognise had lost
weight. Yesterday he'd been supposed to care about the irrational
convictions of a far-right councilman and tomorrow, he supposed, he
would be asked to care about a politician's extramarital affair.
Mark walked to the bus stop, hands in pockets, his gaze never
leaving the ground. His thoughts came slowly, and in pieces, like the
shards of a shattered sculpture. They said 'this all seems so pointless' and
'maybe it's not supposed to have one' and 'what's the use of cynicism if it
presents no alternative?' He gathered them in his head and the fractured
whole of them together said 'there is no voice for your soul here.'
Mark sat in the bus and tried to stop hearing anything. People used
to believe the world would just keep getting better, because man was more
good than bad. That stopped a century ago with the First World War. If
that wasn't true, then was this all there was? Was this the apex, the peak,
the crown of human culture? Or was it all slowly falling?
Mark sat in the corner of the campus cafeteria, sipping coffee. He
would admit it freely to anyone - he dwelled. He pondered things - always
negatively - for an age, and the worst part was the awareness of it. He
could see himself, feel himself being dragged into frustration, over such
tiny things. Were they tiny? (There, the doubt again. Always doubt!)
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Painful thoughts, painful awareness, painful doubt. That just about
summed it up, he thought.
Two weeks ago, Mark had started researching psychology, because
he wanted to understand people. That hadn't worked. However, he had
come to understand one thing from that investigation. His sadness.
Depression isn't just a misery, he told his friends. It's a perpetual
misery, pathos deep enough to drain you of your energy, to stop you
eating, to make you bitter, to give you nightmares when you found the
little sleep you could. It's like drinking dust with every breath, it's like
walking on broken glass, it's like wearing hot ashes. It kills you slowly and
you just want to stop.
"Cheer up!"
"Just be happy!"
"Get over it!"
He kept it to himself after that.
Was he depressed because of the world he lived in, or did the world
seem so bleak because he was depressed? Was he irrational, or the only
sane person he knew? The thoughts sparked and scattered about in a mind
he was convinced was broken. He could link nothing with anything and
thought came only in fragments. He was lost. So were his words to say so
with.
The world, or rather, the people in it, made no sense at all.
It made as much sense as it ever did. Jack Basson
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The Wedding
I falsely laughed at Dan as the crowd roared with laughter at his
terrible jokes. I felt nothing. I didn’t know how to feel at that moment.
What had just happened? I just got married to a man that I didn’t love the
way that he loved me.
Dan was perfect. He was kind, loving, funny and would always put
others first. My mother loved him, my sisters loved him, my little brother
adored him and I think my own father liked him better than me. My dad’s
face said it all. He was a proud and happy man.
Disguising pain is hard. I never knew how hard it would be. When I was
young, if I was sad, I would immediately forge a smile, then laughter would
follow and then everything would be ok. But now, in front of all these
people. I can’t.
I looked up and my mum caught my eye. She smiled at me, but I
couldn’t smile back. I then jerked at Dan gently holding my hand. The look
that he gave made me feel for a second that everything is going to be ok. I
couldn’t do this to him.
I looked around at everyone’s faces. Their laughter and smiles said it
all. It was a perfect wedding, in a perfect location, with perfect people, and
with a perfect man. But I just couldn’t do this to everyone. I suddenly
stood up, everyone was cheering, and clapping and Dan was just smiling.
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My hands were sweating and shaking and I began to watch everyone’s
smiles slowly break at no sight of mine.
I said, ‘Urm… Thank you… all for… coming. It means… a lot, and I mean
a lot. I’m just going to come out with it. Me and Dan have been together for
a long time, a very long time, in fact we were just children when we started
liking each other. And at 11 years old, when you move to a new house and
find a gorgeous boy living next door, everything seems like it is going to be
ok. For the past 15 years, we’ve been through so much and I literally can’t
imagine life without you… but… I can’t do this. Dan, I love you so much.
You’re like a brother to me. And you know that. Look, I know what you’re
all thinking, that this is typical and we’ve spent so much on the wedding
and why didn’t I decide it earlier but I honestly thought everything was
going to be ok. I told myself it would be. Dan, you are perfect. You are kind,
loving, funny and you always put others first. And you will make an
absolutely amazing husband. I’ve heard stories of people being with
someone for too long before they get married and they can’t love each
other in the way that a husband and wife should. I guess today has been
sort of a celebration of our 15 years together but I just can’t go on like this
anymore. I’m really sorry. I do love you Dan, but I just want you to find
someone and marry them straight away. Don’t wait around like we did.’
I sat back down. Silent. I had never felt so many emotions in one
moment. I couldn’t look at mum or dad, let alone Dan. His trouser brushed
against my knee as I felt him stand up. ‘Everyone… thank you so much for
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being here… Lily’s right. 15 years together before marriage is a very long
time. I’m like a brother to her. And she’s like a sister to me. And 5 minutes
ago, I couldn’t see that… but I can now. So… would everyone like to raise
their glasses… to Lily.’
A voice suddenly echoed, ‘To Lily.’ It was my dad. He looked straight at
me in the eye and winked. Then the whole room stood up and raised their
glasses, in unison, ‘to Lily.’
Bethan Wheeler
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The Funeral
Being here makes me feel really old. It also makes me feel selfish for
even thinking it at a time like this. You see I am currently sitting in the
front row, the first pew, the seats that are closest to the action, and it is the
funeral of my older brother, Antony. Now, I do not wish to mislead you, if
that is indeed what I have done. My brother lived to the grand old age of
seventy eight. He was always three years older than me, now that won’t be
the case. In just four years- assuming I live that long, I will be older than
my older brother. Age has now become a funny concept.
After the funeral the family go back to my recently deceased brothers’
house for food and drink that would barely be put to use. I sit on the sofa
next to my daughter watching Antony’s grandchildren playing on the floor
in front of us. The low hum of idle chatting spread through the room,
pierced only by the sudden laughter of the children that are quickly
hushed away by their parents. There are a few attempts to tell the room
funny stories involving Antony, but they only raise a few forced laughs.
What are you thinking? Are you wondering how your funeral will play
out? Please do not feel bad about it; I am sitting here doing the same. Will
people be able to tell stories of my life? Are there any to tell? Is it too late
to start making these stories?
My daughter and I stay for two hours and fifty three minutes before I
say my goodbyes and accept their condolences. We drive back in silence.
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She could always tell what I needed, and right now I did not need people
telling me ‘how sad it was’ and ‘how he was in a better place’. All I needed
to do was to sit in my bedroom in the dark and summon all of the
memories I had of my brother, good and bad. That way I get to remember
him the way I always thought of him, not as a false image that others feel
the need to conjure up.
Laura Charles