katiekatt
Salt mixed with the humidity in my mouth, lungs heavy-like my heart.
Yet, this must be normal, I am sitting on the edge of the pier after all. I wonder what face I'm making, is it sad or pleading, or am I already grieving? For my sister, who has just taken the last train to heaven, her shell in my arms. And taken with her the train ticket, hidden inside her heart.
The cause of many people's torn hearts, what can turn a good day into a nightmare. Merely someone being mean, putting themselves above others and, in the process, shoving that person to the ground. Whether from spite or insecureness it is not a good personality trait.
I am expecting a car to pick me up. It hasn't come for over an hour. Great. Time to call cousin Billy...