

AftermathThe mourners stood around the space in the ground where Alex’s body lay. It was a sunny day, birds singing gently to one another, and Chris couldn’t think of anything more ironic. She was called Chris because she couldn’t think of a shortened version of Charlotte. At least, not one that didn’t sound like it was from the 1800s. Why had he done it? Why did he have to spoil it? Chris knew he had problems, but they had promised to go through it together. Alex had always said that this was the most important thing. To Chris, it didn’t seem so important now. They stood together, strangers united by the death of this writer.Aftermath
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'I'm ridin' on a dolphin, doin' flips and shit' [link]
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