When he died, her world cracked, a thousand shards of body shattered like a quarried stone. It wasn’t she missed him; his hands were rough on her skin, abrasive, his body heavy and hurting, but he was all she knew. Without him, she was nothing. Felt nothing. Belonged nowhere.
Her mind was free, yet her body was not, so long trapped it had forgotten freedom.
I wish, it said, I wish, but no wishes were left.
I long, it said, I long, but no longing was left.
I cry, it said, I cry, but no crying was left.
I die, it said, I die, but there is no dying left.