Reblogged from Truly Bad Writing:
When I touched her hand, I suddenly stopped crying. She was dead—the realization seemed to wash over me. After days of tears and grief, suddenly the world felt still.
I've written about her dozens of times. Once in the form of a letter that she'll never read. A few times in (so far) failed attempts at short stories. Innumerable times in journal entries just like this.
November 30, 2013: I award this post "The Most Attention-Grabbing" blog posting for Saturday from a blogger @www.trulybad.wordpress.com
