Month: August 2024

Inside the sterile donor centre, I queasily thumb through a copy of "The Northern Miner", as a half quart of blood oozes from a vein.

I try to do my part, whenever I’m able. There’s a sense of obligation, when Jacob is below.

She sat in a high-back blue chair, an opened book in her lap, one leg pulled up under the other, her lower lip pushed out in thought. It appeared as through she was looking out the window beyond anything she could see.

The crying fits came without warning. She would be sitting there, having a conversation or staring out into a space – he would often catch her doing that, staring off at some indeterminate point in the distance – when all of a sudden she would buckle over, bury her face into her hands and begin to tremble.

Alex Donaldson shot two videos the morning of the day it all collapsed.