Self obituary (part 1)
She had a trace of a smile on her face, a smile that held secrets. You wouldn’t notice how the corners of her mouth were pulled up had you not known her. And very few could claim they actually knew her, who knows? it was her secrets that drew people to her presence. Seemed like she took them to her grave. You’d think her death would be mourned by people who fell in love with her words, but there were none. Her readers never saw any of the pages she'd spend much of her life on, never to see the light of day outside of her study desk. In her books she could be everything she could never possibly be in her own life. She did not despise her life however. She died knowing she had lived. But in her last moments she was alone, with only blurs of memories of all those moments that she had lived. Her brother was in them of course, her hero. Though she wouldn’t be caught dead saying it. It doesn’t matter now, does it? The most peculiar memory was the tiny bird she found drowning one d...
