Late night.

Found this:

“No, I’m glad you asked. Really. Everyone always dances around it. ‘How are you feeling?’ they ask. It’s getting real. Saying it. It’s… different. Life is getting less tactile. Senses are changing. Everything is closing off; shutting in.
I’m blind in my left eye. I can still see in my right, but that’s going. Everything’s got this strange tunnel vision. Not blurry – condensed. I see less and less of the world each day. Soon, it will be black. Sometimes, people sound different to me. Far away. Tinny. You know when you were a kid and you’d make phones out of string and soup cans? They sound like that.”

I wrote this 13 years ago. 13.

Time to revisit those naive days. Nothing is wasted.

Now, go write.

HRH, Princess Scribe