In the Waning Light

by Loreth Anne White

When you relinquished life, you relinquished your own story, the ability to tell it, shape it the way you wanted the world to see it.

. . . the ways in which we deceive ourselves . . . what misguided action we take in the name of love . . .

💭

Charles Dickens once said that “Home” is simply a name, a word, but it’s a strong one; stronger than any magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration. And when I saw Blake again after we thought he’d died, as I held his son’s hand in that hospital room, I finally understood how, sometimes, “Home” is not a place. It’s a person . . .