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Logically unsound proof of his existence

May 08, 2003
11:54 pm

"House meeting," words too sedate for what happened here tonight, all rage and tears and hurt and frustration and blame. Now is quiet and we all four sit or type or sleep in our rooms but a certain unease keeps watch in the hallway.

The purple flower he gave me one time walking sits dry and upright smashed between glass and pressed by time and struggling under the weight of all these memories and wishes and knowledge of what should be and how it isn't.

Eyes catch back. This world holds the flower and he held the flower in one hand (his hand! how would that feel against my skin? warm I think and cat-tongue rough) and that means that the world holds him too.

I love this world because it holds him, and that isn't the only reason but it's the most real one. It is.

Also, renting a car is really much more difficult than it needs to be.