KattyZee...

Katy grew used to the smells, the sounds.  She learned to read the residents, know when they were cogent and when they were lost somewhere within themselves.  She learned how to soothe and how to feed and how to bathe and turn those who lay so still that their skin had gaping holes.  She felt special when Joe called her Linnet, when he was caught up with the ghosts, and only she could chase them away.  Little by little, lucidity loosened from his brain, working its way out of cracks and crevasses, easing undone.  Dementia clothed his world in deepening shades of disconnection.  Katy held him when the other nurses weren’t there.  Entered his shuttered world as the lights were going out, luminous in false familiarity. 

This is an extract from a short story I wrote, drawing on some of my experiences working with people with dementia. I found it a huge challenge to describe dementia and the workings of the mind of a sufferer. This is probably my favourite passage I have written so far.

Author: KattyZee

I always make crumble when I’m thinking of Trent. The thing is, I only realise halfway through. After I’ve melted, sifted, stirred. Made from memory. Suddenly I’m back in my shitty old kitchen, digesting pork and sitting on my bench with his hands in my back pockets. Tasting salt and gravy. Crumbles in the oven, turning golden. ‘I could really do this,’ he says.

I only realise when I’m halfway through. But I go on anyway. And then I’m looking at two empty ramekins and thinking I finished too fast.

Original passage. Author: KattyZee.

It separates the true smokers from the fakes: that stale, compressed smell. Clinging like an aura, untouched by soap or spray. Seeping from the pores, stretching the follicles. Staining the skin falsely Hispanic. Drawing lines, dragging towards premature death by the lips. Heaving up a wad and muttering “I smoke”.

Original passage. Copyright KattyZee.

phocks asked: When will you come back to Tumblr? :)

You won’t rest until I revive all my online habits will you :)