The Rest Is Silence

Dark. Nothing. Not nothing. Faint and faraway, an electronic heartbeat. Rhythmic. Even. Then a voice, distant too, somewhere in the black. “…And then brain death will occur.” Sympathetic sounding; a nurse. I know it’s a nurse and I know I’m dying. No idea how. Know it, just know it. Suddenly cold. Not uncomfortable, just a […]

Gerry Hayes

I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and deride my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.