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Ten years, a mild summer dog walking and it felt like a pop in the back, had to stop working couldn’t really do anything else. Still—sometimes adjusting, lady comes from the council; have to prove it’s ruined, got rid of dog…good home now i’m told. They say they support me but I know I’m a burden, she works too long, other ones is too young for work—should be enjoying life—but without me they hardly make enough. At times no reason to push forward, getting up is tough, the old special lady has to go on top, but often it doesn’t work properly and I don’t blame her if she’s going elsewhere; theres only a certain amount of daytime tv until the mind rots, halfway there myself. Fed up of the walls, the colour of the walls, need to get out more but cant and frustration comes out onto  them, I don’t mean it. Felt like only a year ago I was thirty, could do anything, did do anything—wherediditallgolostlostlostmyifehasslippedaway— and now…worse then my dad at this age, always that uncle sitting there doing nothing, nieces and nephews must think he’s boring, creepy, boring and creepy is life now. They visit, bring presents say hi to uncle, but know his is a loser, the family talk behind my back. Sometimes don’t know what to do with the day—yes there are times I think of doing it, but it fades always—garden is nice in the summer, brought me a computer; not too hot on using it though. Spending more and more time away from me they are, but I must be awkward, embarrassing, I know, sometimes she has to give me a hand even to get to the loo. And the thought comes back, better off if I wasn’t here? They say they love you not matter what, but its a meaningless soap opera statement. I’ll give them what they want.

Story by Sanjay Bheenuck

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