The Drive

By J. Iner Souster

In a box there sits a letter from an old friend; a few words that say: I am fine, but you are not and will never be again. You need me to be gone.

That day: the last day, we went for a nice drive and laughed like maniacs. You were always good at that. Laughing is what made us close, but then life happened, and your laughter turned into sobs and tears. It wasn’t funny anymore.

On this page, the only thing that remains is the word I, which holds an unbreakable promise.

To my love, I am sorry.

“I write to keep the wolves at bay.” – the writer

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