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Weekly Contest #258
Three people he had loved. Three people he had lost. Time seemed irrelevant after the last was lost. Days flew by, then weeks, then months. Still, the pain didn't go away. It remained, like an on-going emptiness. The piles with cards that all read 'sorry for your loss' with flowers or a small gift grew. He didn't go outside, he didn't open the curtains, he sat, alone, in a dark room. At night, when he couldn't sleep, he cried and screamed and kicked the gifts. If by some miracle, he fell asleep, his nightmares of dying grew worse with every ...
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