One afternoon I cuddled up to what was left of her and cried like a child. She tried to cradle me like a mother. - Don't cry, darling. It will be alright. - What if your pain is from cancer? - Well then I’ll die from cancer. - But you might need serious pain medication. - No more pills. Sometimes, for a few days or weeks she’d forget not to eat and drink, put on a few grams and get back to making political predictions: That Boris Johnson, he’ll be next Prime Minister, mark my words. To transgenderise Roth writing about his father:
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