• Sixty-One

    04

    I lie in bed, the shock creating an unreality that obviates any tiredness. Earlier in the morning, my best friend’s husband rang to say that she had passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. The rest of the day unfolded in numbness. It’s cliché, but there aren’t many other ways to describe the response to such terrible news – it’s an impenetrable and unprocessable disbelief. Other things tumble faintly through my mind; I was meant to pursue a job prospect. Two years of Covid, lockdowns, mandates, et al, had left me unemployed, but an application for one job had opened another possibility in publishing. I had a couple of freelance writing gigs…

  • Sixty-One

    03

    I lie in bed listening to the steady hiss of the CPAP machine. About ten years ago, I was diagnosed with sleep apnea. That’s when you stop breathing during sleep so your brain panics and rouses you just enough to get the breathing restarted. Because that mini-awakening happens, you don’t descend into a deep, restorative sleep. After I was tested, I was told I had forty-seven instances an hour, although one sleep tech during one another test told me I kicked lots in my sleep, so that might’ve confused the results. One doctor said it was unusual for me to have a case of sleep apnea at all given my…