The Pipers.

He sleeps most of the day in the armchair. She is in the kitchen preparing lunch he will not eat. The catheter is a blessing, it saves her having to struggle with him to the toilet on her own; the stoma likewise. She has put the radio on soft playing music in the background, a calming sound. She has prepared the sandwiches he will probably not eat. She pours herself a coffee and leaves his beaker on the side. She sees he is still asleep when she takes her sandwiches and sits in the other armchair with her coffee on the table beside her. He sleeps with his mouth half closed. How his hair has thinned and gone almost white. He kept her awake some of the night. Calling out for his wife and wanting to go home. They’ve been married for fifty years and now it hangs like ball and chain. He once lectured on philosophy at the university. Now he mostly sleeps and dribbles and has forgotten who she is. She eats slowly. The music piano music by Philip Glass plays softly in the background. He sleeps unaware and knows not the sound.

Reviews

[MCS]

Heart-wrenching read. Sad how this illness robs its victims of the very things that make them unique. Profound and sober read dear poet.

[Terry Collett]

Thank you for reading and comments