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Roz Symon

Writer, Illustrator & Creative Communications Coach

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Posted on by Roz Symon

135

The old fella died, alone, schizophrenic, a child, in the psychiatric hospital that had been his home for decades.  His previous home a ground floor tenement gutted by fire when the drunk white Russian who’d married him fell asleep, lit fag in mouth.  Happiest memories Mother’s weekly visits bearing ciggies.

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