the River of forgetfulness

“Her face was blank.

She moaned like a zombie from barn to granary, over the broken planks, kicking at the debris and decay of the past year, jerking into hectic speech, random memories of her lost love […]

‘It’s mine, mine, mine,’ she moaned.

'It’s your distress,’ I said.

'It’s all I have left,’ she said, then almost calmly,

'I’ll not deny the pain.’”

-Kay Dick