A Writer’s Death

A slightly depressing one today…I’m not planning to do this at all but it’s interesting imagining the feelings and emotions.

She sat down to write.  Nothing new there.   It was a daily ritual.  She never knew what would come out of her pen these days.  But this, she knew exactly what to say.  Everything was clear.  She knew what to do.  Write the letter and leave it.  Walk to the river.  Find something heavy to weigh herself down just in case panic made her want to survive.  Walk into the river.  Drown.  Simple.  Everything resolved in one easy move.  No more voice.  No more headaches.  No more noise.  Just quiet death.  He would understand.  He always understood.  He looked at her with such compassion.  She wished she could feel better.  For him. 

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