’ ‘My therapist urged me to write my thoughts down so I could discuss them during our sessions. I filled up about thirty spiral bound notebooks. I... did help, but I discovered something. I loved to write.’ ‘She encouraged me, complimenting me on my style. Told me to seriously pursue it, if nothing else to aid in my healing. I took a creative writing course at the community college.’ ‘So I started to write, compulsively. I bet I didn’t turn the television on for six months. Almost got carpal. First to the coat hook to shed the long, black coat she wore over her suit, then the clatter of her large handbag and briefcase as they were placed none too carefully on the ottoman in the corner of the hall, a brief hesitation as she checks her hair in the mirror before coming into the kitchen. All of this was so familiar. ‘Hi, Linda.’ She moved with her natural grace across the room to kiss me warmly but not passionately on the mouth. I tried to sustain the kiss but she was not having that.. More

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