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Life is too short for boring stories

But one day I woke up, and the pain was gone, so much did I get used to it, just insensitivity. Not displacing, but changing, and on my bedside table was a picture, a small picture that had probably blown me a fairy godmother, a picture of a girl who danced and laughed. Carefully, I …

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I sat there, still there, on the bed, leaning my back against the wall, still since that time, since you left, you sat there like a thief in the night, and you had also taken a lot of things with you.   Your gaze that surrounded and lifted me when I told you about the …

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