She smiled, pretty, her skin waxy, dark rings around her eyes.
Thank you, I said. Thank you. And I broke down. Just stood there in front of them all and wept, wept uncontrollably, shuddering, and smiled at the girl through the tears. Her own smile faded and she looked scared and stepped back into the skirts of her mother and I felt bad but couldn’t help myself. It was all of it.
Was this hell? To love like this, to grieve from fifteen feet, an uncrossable distance?
-The Dog Stars, by Peter Heller
