We sat in a restaurant talking about tattoos. I realised that I'd really like a solar eclipse tattoo. I see lots of moon tattoos - a line of circles, each with the moon growing and shrinking...I've never seen anyone have a solar eclipse; a line of suns, the central one black, spiderweb lines of white, or just black, then the gold returns, increasing. Eclipsed...at that moment, as I said it, I felt it. The sun gone. My son gone. It was temporary. Only just temporary. Death was that close, my stars fell, my heart stopped. No sun... No son. I was silent. A rush of noise, intrusive music that I didn't want to hear, too many people, too, too close. He stared ahead. He hears, he sees, he ignores. His silence is louder than the end of the world, louder than any scream or cry. I hear and feel every word that has stabbed through my heart since May. Here is where secondary fear lives. My reaction to that physical rush of adrenaline, the iron grip, constriction and...
