A/N:I want readers here to note that this was my first ever draft of the novel, so there will be grammar and spelling mistakes. Please don't copy or plagiarise my work. Enjoy reading and feel free to give me any constructive feedback. Thank you!
This one is for Carla, my sister, my best friend.
Because you put your hand on the wall and listened.
***
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines gnaws,
on kind words unsaid,
promised walks never taken.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
When Great Trees Fall - Maya Angelou
***