W
Literature
101334WHISPER 101334WHISPER
this repetition will keep me alive.
Part I.
Journal
4:38 AM. 10 July, 2002
It comes and goes like the tide.
In the quiet times I hear a soft whispering. Bits of song, and even faint breathing: past tense. I am not afraid.
Otherwise I stay busy, keep my mind occupied. Now and then as I wander through the day, I will find the occasional ray of sunlight. But as often as I remind myself of this, it offers little comfort.
Still a few hours before the sunlight.
The days go on.
My last words to her were frigid and unconcerned. If I would have known they would be my last words, I would have spoken softly. I would have he
