a
Literature
amira i fell to my knees in the kitchen. the legs that had carried me so far finally gave way for grief days after we sent the papers petitioning for the dissolution of our plans, our family, our home. collapsed in front of an unknown future, face to the floor, i felt a sudden, soft touch of a wet nose on my cheek, heard a rumbling purr originating from some depth impossible to imagine in such a fragile creature. i've always wondered if she knew i was in pain or if she was simply curious and pleased to finally have me at her level, a welcome change in her old age. her reasons forever unknown, the moment forever etched into my memory, she managed to reach through the darkness and create a space for light: one single burst of laughter, then back to mourning. for us, but also for her, dying at an increasing rate those days. three weeks later we took her pain away, then stopped her heart. sometimes happiness piles up, sometimes it's sorrow. many good things ended that fall but i
