I speak the language of flowers to blot out the living one.
Blackout #87
She loves like spring.
Blackout #86
It was selfish of me to lift my own burden, to want too deep.
Blackout #85
"You mean more than nicotine," she said with a grim smile.
Blackout #84
Whiskey. It's an obsession.
Blackout #83
She loved to fill up space in her life.
Blackout #82
I am shortsighted.
Blackout #81
He was the key to her raised standing.
Blackout #80
She was an unusual star, certain the future was beautiful
Blackout #79
Try to think. Try to forget. I know. I don't know.
Fragment of a Figment 