Dominic Bell is a former oil rig worker from Hull, East Yorkshire, and multiple WM winner. He writes as a break from computer programming and attending to the needs of his teenage children. His main writing project is endlessly editing a series of First World War novels.
I message Dawn.
<< We still going to the coast? xxx >>
<< Yes. You drive. x >>
Less kisses than mine. And I don’t want to drive. But we’re not really like that anyway. We both still live in our own houses. I live in fear she will go into a care home first, that I will be the one having to visit, having to watch her fade. We are – Idon’t know what we are really. Allies against the dying of the light? Friends who sleep over sometimes? Just two people who don’t want to be alone?
We see each other most days. Sometimes just for one of our standard walks, preceded by coffee, followed by a pub meal. We usually walk miles, even in the rain. Sometimes I’ll cook
