For a couple of years before my hubby's passing my daughter kept seeing the number 37 on the clock. Everytime she looked at the clock it would be . 6:37 or 9:37 or whatever the hour, but the minutes was always 37. She was totally freaked out. She avoided that number whenever she would book her airline tickets.
It turned out that about two years or so later when my husband died, he past away at 12:37 midnight. Then my daughter no longer sees the number 37 after my hubby passed away.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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Regis 🍁
It turned out that about two years or so later when my husband died, he past away at 12:37 midnight. Then my daughter no longer sees the number 37 after my hubby passed away.
It's strange, but true.
Sandie