She told me he was sick by way of explaining his behavior.

He’d been creating drama in his family, particularly with his wife.

I watched the eggs become firm in the pan and I moved them around with the spatula.

by Ravi Zupa

She said he knew his diagnosis and this was his way of being remembered.

The eggs began sticking to the pan, just a papery sliver of gold, I delivered the rest to a dish waiting nearby. I tried to remove what was left in the pan. The brittle sheets flaked dry pieces, nothing to salvage.

DREAMLIFE: A collection of women’s dreams, recorded and then translated here as part of the Female Background metabolism. A way in, a way out.

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