In my Own Time I am Dying

It is a beautiful Saturday morning. In the gully that circles Flat 1a, Emily sits on her raggedy old sun bed surrounded by seasonal foliage.

Strawberries, lettuce and brightly coloured magnolia plants bask in the warm rays of sunshine. The delicate pink flowers of a free roaming rose bush contemplate the moment that they will open themselves up to the world; to be vulnerable and beautiful until the day that they die.

A magical soundscape celebrates the perfect English weather. On a day like this, England is the best place on earth.

Birdsong and the auditory struggle of a coma-stricken man share the air harmoniously. The former from the great tall trees that kill the lawn. The latter dispersing innocuously from a half-opened window. Occasionally, a light aircraft glides by, skirting the place where land meets sea.

Emily has needed a moment like this. Occasionally she coughs, and while her chest rattles like an old man’s, she feels her body sigh with relief.

For more than a week, she has unsuccessfully ignored a lung infection.

She hasn’t missed a day of work or a social engagement, but not without struggle.

The morning sun makes everything feel okay.

Emily lies in the sun, half-awake and half-asleep, completely in love with that which surrounds her. The world is a very beautiful place.

Fabpants Recommends: Spiritualized ‘Songs in A&E’. Feel the hurt that hides deep inside you softly bleed and gently heal. “There is nowhere you have been that I need to go. There is nothing you can learn that I need to know.” This album is amazing.