The hands of the clock turned elastic while I imprinted these feelings in memory. You must remember this. It was all I had, all I've ever had, the only currency, the only proof that I was alive. Memory.
Cutting For Stone
I have only 100 pages left of this beautiful ode to love, loss, and legacy. After numerous starts and stops, I am happysad to say I'll finish this novel this time. Likely tonight. The only explanation I can offer for why it's taken me this long is that it wasn't time yet. This isn't the first time a book has found me at just the right time and in just the perfectly fitting space. It's also not the first time I'm seeing signs in such an occurrence. I think the Universe is trying to tell me that this may be the year of second (or fifth) chances, to never give up or give in, and to keep making meaningful memories.