Life at № 42 by E.M. Coutinho
One of the people we first met when we arrived in Mazamet is ill. It was all very quick. In December we went to their Christmas party. He was working until just a couple of weeks ago. From there to discomfort, to pain, to being diagnosed with terminal cancer with a prognosis of a few days left to live.
Quick is always best, in my opinion- but even then death is a shocking affair. It makes one think of things one doesn’t want to think about. Like death. It’s not that I have a problem with accepting the cycle of life, I don’t. It just makes one question how much effort one should put into things. Or even if selfishness might not be the best road? Why not use every bit of time we have left on ourselves?