My Pensieve

She is gone.

There are painful memories not yet stored deep in the core. These memories are just beneath the crust of day-to-day existence. They are hot magma swirling around in the upper mantle, and occasionally, but with sufficient volcanic destruction, they bursts forth, rupturing the crusty mundane life of the everyday. Like now. Seeing a hypocritical message on Whatsass… Continue reading She is gone.