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Ageing

I watch as he grows older, sometimes daily. He calls it his decreptitude. Does he watch me as I age too? When he is sleeping I see him as he will look in death. Sometimes I am fascinated, others scared. My life will be upended by the loss of him. I know this. But I cannot stop it happening. There is little grace in it. And this needs to be accepted.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.