She sat there, as a shadow of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, to watch subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.
Grief is a house where the chairs have forgotten how to hold her, the mirrors have forgotten how to reflect her, and the walls have forgotten how to keep her in!
Grief is a house that vanishes when someone knocks or rings the doorbell, a house that blows into the air at the slightest breeze, a house that buries itself deep in the ground while everyone is sleeping.
Author's Note:
Reader's Age Group : 13+.
Trigger Warning : Mentions of death and associated trauma in pandemic time.
Level of Triggers : Moderate.
Faith is a home where the new zephyr will soothe your heart, an innocent smile will pique your interest in life, the small child will outgrow the old, and the doors will no longer let you in or out due to their non-existence!
Don't pay attention to the eventualities, child! Pay attention to the budding life!
.... Then come to me... Because I am your fate! Anything is possible! Anything to cheer you up....life is calling you!
BitterBerry
