Woman’s Rant
Published in

Woman’s Rant

A Dying Man Owes You Nothing

A note from a passerby at the intersection of grief and guilt.

Photo by Daan Stevens on Unsplash

Sunken cheeks, frail limbs, a slow and a more deliberate process of moving thought to words — emaciated is what he is. It’s the cheeks that catapult me into utter shock and a slow-creeping despair. His cheeks used to be a round brown and almost buoyant like my mothers. Standing side by side, you’d easily…

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