When tragedy strikes we become sleuths. We reconstruct events to establish the belief that it should have been us, it could have been us, it was our fault or we caused their death somehow. The days pass into weeks, the weeks years until the memory fades and details dim.
Immaculate Ruins
It begins with a stranger’s cautious agreementto get lost for a while in the ruins of you, playing
sentinel from the love seat’s worn...
