Archive
Author: Alasdair Renwick-Hale
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Attention Is the Most Expensive Thing You Can Give
I remember sitting in a sterile, fluorescent-lit room in the oncology ward, the smell of antiseptic clinging to my sweater, listening to a man…
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Walking Somewhere Slowly Was the Point
I remember sitting in a cramped hospital waiting room years ago, listening to a young man describe his plan to walk the Camino, his…
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Reporting Harm Usually Costs the Reporter Most
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital corridor late one Tuesday, listening to a man describe the hollowed-out feeling in his chest after…
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Most Festivals Absorbed What Came Before
I remember sitting in a cramped hospital waiting room during a particularly bitter February, watching a family try to maintain some semblance of a…
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Forgiveness Is Not the Same as Restored Position
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospice room late one Tuesday, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic and unsaid apologies. A…
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Arriving Rushed Costs the First Twenty Minutes
I remember sitting in a drafty parish hall twenty years ago, watching a well-meaning committee member obsess over the exact shade of linen for…
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Recognition Took Longer Than Most People Assume
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital room in the late nineties, holding the hand of a man who had spent his entire life…
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Loyalty That Requires Silence About Harm Is Complicity
I remember sitting in a dim hospice room about fifteen years ago, the smell of antiseptic and stale lilies hanging heavy in the air,…
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The Year Was Organised Before Clocks Were
I remember sitting in a dim hospital room during a particularly brutal February, watching a man try to find meaning in a life that…
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Most Variants Are Spelling, Very Few Matter
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital chapel late one Tuesday, trying to find the right words for a man who had lost…