There were at least a hundred and thirty people crying that morning, by my count. I couldn’t follow them all home, but I suppose some of them were crying all day. On the surface, they eventually got over it. Deeper down somewhere however, in their gut, or in their heart, or their spleen, or wherever these things tend to hide away, I think the grief was still there.
SHORT #13: A Tree Who Negotiates
SHORT #13: A Tree Who Negotiates
SHORT #13: A Tree Who Negotiates
There were at least a hundred and thirty people crying that morning, by my count. I couldn’t follow them all home, but I suppose some of them were crying all day. On the surface, they eventually got over it. Deeper down somewhere however, in their gut, or in their heart, or their spleen, or wherever these things tend to hide away, I think the grief was still there.