Her dedication to miniaturizing her world showed in every minute detail. Even the microscopic strings of the guitars played in tune. She built a stage,
It was just the way she left it. I couldn’t find the strength to move a thing. It was like a shrine to her. So,
It was a marginal existence. Months on end of isolation. Being okay without humans. Weeks without a single word uttered. Voice crackled like shattered glass.
Gone. Summed it up quite fine. Gone was the way of life so care free and jolly. Gone was the comraderie of social gatherings. of