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In a futile attempt at self-preservation, my mind rehearsed loss before death closed its fingers, as though practicing it would lessen the blow. It never did.
It was human folly, or hubris, to think we could wrong-foot forces like seasons and time, to think we could build a dam against life and death. But that didn’t stop us from trying.
in a grave colder than Mars, next to the soul I’d loved for a hundred lives and lost in every one, we took our final breath beneath the indifferent stars.
We had loved each other for so long, through the darkest times in history, through impossible circumstances, through terrible fates and insurmountable grief. The joy and pain we shared had knotted the very fabric of us together.
His arrival had felt like all those letters I’d sent home had been replied to at once.
I didn’t want to have to run for my life, but I wanted my life enough to run.
“Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?” “I think it’s fair to say, at this point, that you’ve had a decent hand in forging me.”
And yet, beneath the great canvas of the stars, we were nothing. A blip, a finger snap, a single note in the symphony of the universe. The realisation made me feel at once better and worse. We were nothing, but we felt like everything.
