My Conversation With Death

Even if it was his nature, he did not steal in my room like an ordinary thief. He was sitting there as if he was always there, please pay attention to surroundings. The appearance in his room was an attack on my sense of security, but his smile never drawn this intention. Like a child, he does not truly understand the influence of his behavior. His physical characteristics, clothing, and even his manners are neutral. This makes me feel that he will be integrated into it no matter what kind of environment he is put in.

I was lying in my garney in a bright room. The curtain detached me from the big corridor; I heard that other patients are talking from surgery if they are undergoing surgery. My side feels pain, but that does not help - I am hacked to death with a knife. I think I will be late. I lifted up my napkin skirt to see that the doctor did not take out anything.

As parents, talk about menstruation, discrimination, gender, death, and inequality. These are severe conversations. And I think that I had been there for several years before a difficult conversation faced. But I am working in the past seven hours, I have not figured out the answer I am still giving her.

In my own life I advocate a conversation at work with a nonprofit organization that focused on the problem that is dying. Death is a terrible topic, and even speaking with family and friends is difficult. Dialogue is the first step to overcome the theme of silence. It is also a bridge to further actions such as assigning medical staff and drafting will. There is an image "take people to the table", but this event has no text format. While sitting in the ring of a chair, my knees barely touched neighbors. The row of speakers and chairs is not facing the front. Instead, we face each other

The next week my mother came down to visit me. We were sitting in front of each other for the first time since I was sentenced to death. As we did not really know what to say, I controlled the conversation and let her know I was fine. I need her assurance that she will not return people there and try to kill each other. My first bath was better than I thought. A beautiful black woman approached my cage. "Are you ready to take a shower?" I was robbed of her eyes. For years, the face above the badge was mostly Caucasian. She is different. Her hair is not gorgeous. Her manners indicate that it is not necessary. It is sitting in the bread and revealing a completely symmetrical clavicle with light brown skin. She is more relaxed than most security guards.