The Universe is a bastard.
Last night my mum and I were talking about my grandmother’s 80th birthday party coming up in a week and a half. Specifically we were talking about my cousin, who has muscular dystrophy, and how he was determined to come over from adelaide for it, even though it was the middle of winter and he’d caught pnemonia twice last year. We worked out this morning that he died at about the same time we were talking about him. His heart failed as he was brushing his teeth getting ready for bed last night.
The universe is a bastard.