About my parents, my Uncle, how on his last day he kept mumbling to himself and calling me by my Dad’s name, and telling me things that made no sens.... ‘When it happens, you’ll know. You’ll feel that change coming on. Feel it wanting to break free.’ He had told me that afternoon while we were eating a late lunch, ‘I wish Dad was still here to tell you all of this, or they should have at least put it in a manual or something.’ Our housekeeper, Mrs. Flenning, told me it was just the Alzheimer’s. I slide my lips down him, sucking him deep into my dribbling mouth, reaching down to find his captive band. He is softening and I take the plastic between my teeth and wriggle it over his poor abraded length ignoring his sudden winces and anguished cries. His head is so raw and swollen that it gets quite stuck and I struggle to release him. He is most unhelpful; wriggling and moaning plaintively, but finely, with teeth, saliva and lips I manage to drag it off him.I sit back up on his thighs,. More

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