We indulged Jupes’ love of cake. How else to please him? Frail & blind, he gorged on walnut cake & somehow thumbed the crumbs from the table before he sighed. ‘I’d hoped for warm welcome, even love, but cake fairly recompenses me for English ingratitude.’

The trafficked, dispossessed, & refugee snared in camps own true misery. I know that but don’t always remember that my failures, heartbreaks, & panics are only splinters shaved from the cross of ego. Self pity is emotional catatonia lived inside 1000 shades of grey.