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you silly sausage,”
existed. From that day on he realized it was possible to grieve a living person. The next time they visited, at Christmas, she had remembered him again and he savored her warm hug, not knowing when, or if, he’d get another. Mum wouldn’t hug a stranger, after all. Over the next few months, her remembering him became rarer. Every visit, he wondered if it would be the last day she’d know him. It was like watching someone slowly disappear. Cruelly the body remained, a taunting illusion, making you believe they were right in front of you
when in fact they were possessed by an imposter,
