I’m reading Neil Gaiman’s American Gods and this paragraph kinda struck me.  Because it’s like Laura is describing me.

“I love you,” she said,
dispassionately. “You’re my
puppy. But when you’re really
dead you get to see things
clearer. It’s like there isn’t
anyone there. You know? You’re
like this big, solid, man-shaped
hole in the world.” She frowned.
“Even when we were together. I
loved being with you. You adored
me, and you would do anything
for me. But sometimes I’d go into
a room and I wouldn’t think
there was anybody in there. And
I’d turn the light on, or I’d turn
the light off, and I’d realize that
you were in there, sitting on your
own, not reading, not watching
TV, not doing anything.”


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