I ask Ma Beaty to sit down, she has back pain and maybe I’m asking a lot.
I thought it would be a welcome respite from the Last Will and Testament conversation I’ve just overheard in her kitchen.
I sensed her weariness when at last she exclaimed she would give her stuff away on the day she dies.
I hear my voice say she may be busy that day.
Mercifully she has a sense of humour.
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