From His Prison To Sweet Freedom

Cob

f a concerned husband. He brought me meals, fluffed my pi

e corner of his mouth twitch into a smile, a softness in his eyes that was never, eve

you?" I asked one aft

quickly pocketed his phone.

o point in arguing. He wasn't here because he cared. He was here to make

dollar meeting if I had a headache. The Jason who held me all night when I h

s now just an inconvenience. A

lifornia sun was bright, but I f

son broke the silence. "Genesis's birthday

redulous. "You've go

n the road. "I want you two to get a

roying my life," I said, my voice shaking with r

degrees. Jason's jaw tightened. He pulled the car o

rrifying. All the feigned concern was

of memories you cling to... it could simply vanish. As if your mother never ex

do it. I knew he would. He would destroy the last pie

spered, the words tearing at my throat. "And now you use my mother's memory to threaten me

said you'd never let anything hu

. The man who used to wipe away my tears now s

rk on me anymore, Al

and a bitter, broken smile touched my lips. He was right. Love

hand. "Fine," I said, my voice hollo

er said to bloom only once a decade on a remote, sacred

ain in absolute stillness and silence in a meditation cell for three days

b and my mind felt vast and empty. I watched the sliver of light from the high

ody was hollowed out, my spirit worn smooth as a river stone,

s, carefully preserved in a crystal va