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Dinner at a friend’s…

Yesterday evening, I went to the home of a friend for dinner. It was really pleasant. It felt so good to venture out across the harbour, the sky was clear and the stars were bright.

My friend gets up very early and then finds the early dark nights cause him to start drinking. This worries me as it is becoming his habit. A dangerous habit. If he were to get up a bit later and readjust his schedule, he would not feel that void. It’s a long evening of drinking when one starts at 4.30pm.

Coming back this morning was stormy. Wind and rain. Very few people around. It seems calmer now.

It is so good to be feeling well again. It was such a long time – or so it seemed. I still take one steroid tablet and must ask when it would be advisable to stop. I don’t want to be dependent on them.

I took a photo on the bridge yesterday. Not the best one I’ve ever taken, but it’s a reminder of being better and out.

(I stay in my friend’s spare room. It actually is spare and I sleep alone.)

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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