I look up at my therapist. "I need you to look at some pictures" she says. I see brown hair. Joe. No. Don't make me. Leave me be. "Look at this picture and tell me what you see." I look and see him. Him. That smile I missed with the lips I used to kiss. Kiss. I see a coffin. Death. Peaceful black abyss. Wait. Death. Him. Gun shot. Gun. Shot. Screaming. Him. I take a big intake of breath quickly as the cold air hits the back of my throat.
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Short Story1st February 8:24am "Morning" Message delivered "I miss you" Message delivered "Please come back" Message delivered Or the one where happily ever after didn't occur
