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They have it easy, the ones who can mourn the dead

– Kamila Shamsie

I wonder sometimes, where would I be now, had I seen his body cough up his soul free. They tell their versions of his death. The dead body she saw on Skype, he bathed, she kissed…the dead body. Soul-less, stiffened, cold.

What if I had my own version? What if I had seen life gather itself out of the moles on his soles? Had I seen life make that bitter escape from his body would I have mourned his death altogether all at once?

It’s different now when the mind take its liberties. He is out there somewhere, perhaps. Hope is a creepy little thing, I tell you. Hope. Aasha..

Creepy.

 

 

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