You can come back to friendship. You can let it drop, for five years or ten years, and come back to it.

If you show this devious little liar one atom's worth of compassion I will have you shot.

I tend not to attempt to describe pain. I don't feel I can comprehend or re-create the personal suffering of others, so I simply try to tell what happened, or what I imagine happened. I also think it helps to let the reader fill in a lot of the blanks. Melodrama is patronizing. With a straightforward statement, readers can figure out for themselves what's going on.

One moment flying in green sunlight, then the sky suddenly grey and dark.

Oh Julie, wouldn’t I know if you were dead? Wouldn’t I feel it happening, like a jolt of electricity to my heart?

It's an illusion I've noticed before-- words on a page are like oxygen to a petrol engine, firing up ghosts. It only lasts while the words are in your head. After you put down the paper or pen, the pistons fall lifeless again.

But people need lift, too. People don't get moving, they don't soar, they don't achieve great heights, without someone buoying them up.