The sense of loss was deeper than anything she had ever known.
She came here every day, perhaps looking for answers or a sign of some sort to ease the pain, guide her where to go from here.
It had been a gradual process, but the inevitable was always lurking. Time was cruel, giving and taking, teasing with false hope only to snatch it away days, if not hours later.
This place was nowhere special, held no specific memories, yet she was drawn to it inexplicably, day after day.
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About Sue Vincent
Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye
, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France,
exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent
. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs.
Follow her at scvincent.com
and on Twitter @SCVincent
. Find her books on Goodreads
and follow her on Amazon
worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org.
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