Paralysis

John Edward Marks (JEM)
Nov 3 · 2 min read
Photo by Emily Toycen on Unsplash

Snow… lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

The Dead, Dubliners, James Joyce

Yes, paralysis of the heart

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John Edward Marks (JEM)

Written by

Annah the Allmaziful, the Everliving, the Bringer of Plurabilities, haloed be her eve, her singtime sung, her rill be run, unhemmed as it is as it is uneven!

inkMend

inkMend

inkMend is a writer’s safe space on Medium to express experience with pain and write to heal from trauma. Inspired fiction, poetry, and non-fiction/memoir welcome.

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