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I lean back on the pillows and look at the corners of the room. When I was a kid, I always wanted to live on the ceiling - it looked so clean and uncluttered, like the top of a cake.

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
Pillow
Kids
Lean
Back
Cake
Wanted
Corners
Live
Uncluttered
Look
Clean
Pillows
Looks
Looked
Ceiling
Always
Room
Ceilings
Like
Rooms

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Keep breathing. Just keep doing it. It's easy. In and out.
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. . . my bones they'll burn or bury. It'll be my death.
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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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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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Every seven years our bodies change, every cell. Every seven years, we disappear.
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Hold my hand. Don't let go.
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Don't think you have to be good because you're the only one left. Be as bad as you like.
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Perhaps I'm dead. Perhaps this is all it will be. The living will carry on in their world – touching, walking. And I'll continue in this empty world, tapping soundlessly on the glass between us.
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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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I miss him as soon as he goes. When he isn't with me, I think I made him up.
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Nurses never tell you what they know. They're hired for their cheeriness and the thickness of their hair. They need to look alive and healthy, to give the patients something to aim for.
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Is this how it is for everyone?' she whispered. 'No.' 'How do you know?' 'I just do. I've never felt this with anyone before.' 'Serious?' 'Serious. That isn't a line.' 'Kiss me,' she said. He did. Everywhere.
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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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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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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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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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I made a fatal error thinking he could save me.
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You changed the rules of the universe when you fell in love with the enemy.
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Don't pretend to care. I don't need you as an anesthetic.
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When I first saw Ellie, I knew it was her-- she was my fantasy. I didn't want it to be true, but every time I met her it was obvious, and the funny thing was that she was better than the fantasy, like I got more stuff than I'd imagined.
Jenny Downham