Stevie Beer

“If you knew how much pain I’m in, you’d be here. I’d travel anywhere for you if you felt like this. I’m in agony,” Dad slurred down the phone. He’d broken his ribs after another drunken fall. Since discharging himself from hospital against medical advice, he’d been calling non-stop crying out for boxes of paracetamol. Calls like this weren’t uncommon. Throughout my 27 years they’ve been endless. I couldn’t jump every time he called.