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My mind no longer craved the drink, but my body did. It had been so long since it had faded into that dark oblivion. A place too dark to see the ghosts of those I’d killed. Too cold to feel the sting of that truth.
With every bottle I swallowed, I created moments of nothingness, where I could breathe just a little more freely. I had chased those moments for decades,
“The weight you bear is not your punishment, Keera. It is your heart. One day it will stop bleeding.”
“You’re always beautiful,” he whispered. “But you’re exquisite when you laugh.”
He held the torch above his head, devouring the swirls of names over and over like I was a letter he needed to understand. An excerpt of prose he cherished.
