Having recently lost my job, I have been volunteering my spare time up at the local child cancer ward and in doing so have become good friends with a young 10-year-old boy called Jimmy. I sit with him and hold his hand as he has his chemotherapy, take him to the movies when he is feeling well enough, and what little spare money I have, I spend on toys for him.
Today he asked me, “Will you still come to visit me when I leave the hospital?”
“Not a chance,” I replied. “I fucking hate cemeteries.”



