You find a way, somehow, to get through the most horrible things, things you think would kill you. You find a way and you move through the days, one by one, in shock, in despair, but you move. The days pass, one after the other, and you go along with them — occasionally stunned, and not entirely relieved, to find that you are still alive.
“The Year of Fog” by Michelle Richmond (via
julie911)
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