Tea Leaves

I found it while leafing through a magazine that was amongst a pile on the coffee table. It read:

“Dear Donald, Having just learnt my diagnosis, I am writing to let you know how I feel and what I know in this moment. Fuck! Why me? I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to give in to this disease that will eat away at my memories. I don’t want to forget how it felt to fall in love with Sue, or the first time Jake said Da-Da…”

I couldn’t read anymore of it. I stared into my empty teacup, wishing its leaves could conjure up a different story, wishing I could go back to being the other me, the one who’d tried to make time stand still, the one who’d had the foresight to write it all down.


Prompt from Writing 101, Day 5 Be Brief. Today’s Prompt*: You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter. Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.

*I wrote in response to this prompt some time ago, although I wasn’t enrolled in Writing 101 at the time. That effort is in this post.

20 thoughts on “Tea Leaves

    1. Yes, with ageing population it will only become a greater issue. Something you may find interesting – there is research that suggests a change in sense of humour can be an early indicator of dementia- e.g. if someone has always loved satire and are suddenly really into slap stick…


      1. I think for a proper diagnosis, the dr would ask a couple of questions:

        – was the fall caused by a banana skin?
        – did you throw pie in his face once he got up?



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