Thursday, July 15, 2010


Her hand closed over the pendant, her knuckles turning white as she tightened her fist. She stared into emptiness, willing her soul into oblivion. But it was not to be. She was destined to live, even when he was dead. She didn’t have it in her to move on, to pick up and stitch back together the tattered pieces of her being, the shattered remains of her life. It was unfair, her having to live without him. Shouldn’t her soul have been killed with that knife wound? After all they were, like everybody said, two bodies, one soul. Why then hadn’t life been sucked out of her the moment it left his body. She might be alive in technical terms, but after him, she was just an animate dead body. Empty. Void.

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