Feb 12
3 min read
Living Two Years At Once
When your person dies, you spend the first year in the fog of the year before.
Every morning as soon as I make my cup of coffee, I pull out my journals. There are two of them, this year, and the one I had from precisely a year ago. I take a sip of the coffee and open last year’s journal. I read aloud to Luna, my calico cat.
