Last night I had a dream that I spoke to my Nana on the telephone. She was calling me from the past, and I had to very carefully hold in my emotions and wear a façade of normality to conceal the fact she was dead (which she didn’t know). To her it was a call to check in on me; to me it was heart-bustingly significant to even hear the sound of her voice.
The phone call had subtitles in Nana’s handwriting.
Rhubarb Pyjamas 