August 11th.

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I pulled into my drive to find that my husband, Sam was home. We had moved back to Somerset, where I grew up, 5 years earlier just before we got married and my dad announced he was ill. Someone had to be here and I didn't see Joe around anymore. I had been out food shopping for the past few hours and at the start of August it could be quite tiring in the humidity. I hauled the plastic bags out of the car and opened the front door, calling out to Sam at the same time. I followed on into the kitchen where I put the kettle on then I started to unpack the food. Sam padded downstairs and slid his hands around my petite waist, I turned and hugged him. "I haven't had a good day" I started to explain, hoping that I wounldn't have to say much more. 

"Oh? Do you want to talk about it?" He said staring into my blue eyes, he was always understanding.

In fact I did want to talk to someone about it, but I also did not, one can not describe such emoticons easily. Sam understood and sent me off to get into bed and have a nap, promising a pizza when I awoke. I slowly dragged myself upstairs, my whole body ached with grief.

Today was August 11th 2025, just another day to some people.

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