Little things, like Mythbusters ads. Books. Everywhere, I see her in books. My tablecloths she made when I was little. The Norwegian decor all over my house. The pewter candlesticks I could kill someone with. The sweaters. Oh, the sweaters. The obituary on the fridge I should probably take down, because every time I look at it I'm thrown into that funky parallel universe where everything is slightly off.
She was, is, a force of nature. That woman is one amazing piece of work. I want to call her. I want to kiss her soft cheek.
Sisters Are Sanctuary (Or, Little Roomies Rule!)
2 weeks ago