“So when you point it out, all this beauty, all this that you see and you think I see too. You should know it pales beside what I saw before. This purple”—she waved a hand at the huckleberries beside—“makes me think of her ribs, beat dark like that. The blue water, that’s her eyes, clear enough to see there’s no soul behind them anymore. You breathe the air and you think it’s fresh, but I can’t even take a breath without feeling that stab.”
