sleep no more

It’s mostly a quiet grief, except when it isn’t. J’s been sleeping badly and I’ve been having nightmares almost as Gothic as the ones I had when I was pregnant. The other night I dreamed (because I am pretentious EVEN IN MY SUBCONSCIOUS, EVEN WHEN I AM ASLEEP) that I was scrambling through the flat searching for my copy of King Lear. I didn’t want to read “Fear no more,” I wanted to read Lear’s dying speech:

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou’lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!

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