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She'll understand what I already know - that death surrounds us all. And it tastes like metal between your teeth.

Jenny Downham

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Jenny Downham
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: January 1
Actor
Author
Film Actor
Novelist
Writer
Inner and Outer London
Surround
Teeth
Taste
Already
Understand
Surrounds
Death
Tastes
Like
Metal
Metals

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Parents don't know their children at all. No one knows anyone, in fact.
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I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.
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I miss him as soon as he goes. When he isn't with me, I think I made him up.
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And now he's down this for me. He's made me famous. He's put my name on the world.
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It hurts and hurts to have him this close. I feel sick with it.
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If you want a girl to like you, you have to listen like a woman and love like a man.
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The inside of the door is glossy white. A total re-paint. I touch it with my fingers, but it stays the same. It's so bright it makes the room waver at the edges. Every few years we disappear.
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No, really. I free you.' I don't want to be free.
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Every few years we disappear, Zoey. All our cells are replaced by others. Not a single bit of me is the same as when I was last in this room.
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She'd never in her whole life bunked school, smoked dope, or kissed a boy whose name she didn't know, and yet in the last few days, she'd done all these things.
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It's as if a child with a brush and too much enthusiasm has been set free with a tin of black paint inside me.
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If I learnt anything at all about terminal illness in my research, it's that the experience is different for everyone. I do believe that life becomes concentrated when it's boundaried and that death is the biggest boundary of all.
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Her skin tasted expensive.
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Death straps me to the hospital bed, claws its way onto my chest and sits there.I didn't know it would hurt this much. I didn't know that everything good that's ever happened in my life would be emptied out by it.
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She needed food. Diets didn't count in a crisis.
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I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.
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a little bird moves a mountain of sand one grain at a time it picks up one grain every million years and when the mountain has been moved the bird puts it all back again and that's how long eternity is and that's a very long time to be dead
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Adam strokes my head, my face, he kisses my tears. We are blessed. Let them all go. The sound of a bird flying low across the garden. Then nothing. Nothing. A cloud passes. Nothing again. Light falls through the window, falls onto me, into me. Moments. All gathering towards this one.
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Maybe I’ll come back as somebody else. I’ll be the wild-haired girl Adam meets in his first week at university. ‘Hi, are you on the horticultural course as well?
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I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.
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