My eyes are fixated on grandpa’s parched lips. He attempts to utter a word, but there is only silence.
It is just he and I at home. I am 17.
The window shuts violently,
And grandpa goes.
The last thing was a glimpse of excellence in his eyes, and silence.
Ellie Nik is a teacher/researcher who lives in Sydney, Australia. She writes as a way of self-discovery.
We have a new routine these days: checking the mailbox when we return from daycare.
It is day three and still no letters to collect. Those big brown eyes look at me in disappointment.
It is day four. I put a letter in the mailbox before going to collect her.
Ellie Nik is a teacher/researcher who lives in Sydney, Australia. She writes as a way of self-discovery.
I just looked up at the sky,
It was an incandescent blue.
The sun rays dancing in my hair.
I picked a dandelion and blew it away.
“This could be the last time”, I thought
I was coming from my last chemo session
The doctor did not have much hope.
Ellie Nik is a teacher/researcher who lives in Sydney, Australia. She writes as a way of self-discovery.
I know I am intentionally delaying the bedtime tonight. I want her close to me, her smell, the softness of her skin. The hug just calms me down, as simple as that. I look into her big brown eyes and draw my two-year-old even closer. “One more sniff,” I say.
Ellie Nik is a teacher/researcher who lives in Sydney, Australia. She writes as a way of self-discovery.