A gauntly figure, skin so discolored it could be mistaken for bone. Eyeliner and mascara that blended together into a sweaty chipped blend, her rouge smeared off the lip and tear marks only emphasized by the eyeliner crying out of her eyes.

Horrid, that’s how she looked.

She hadn’t seen her reflection proper in weeks now- only a droopy disfigurtstion of it in puddles and broken glass.

Perha...

Was there any questions left? Any ‘what comes next?’

It didn’t matter to him, everything that could ever matter was just memories now, buried underneath.

He craned his head high enough to re-read the gravel Incased text.

_In loving memory, Veronica Jones, wife and mother. _

__

He couldn’t anymore- the reality of it all, it felt like a cruel dream he was forced to burden till the end of his d...