I think for a minute. Watching my wife fade into the distance, I put a hand on my heart. "Dead." I wave a hand toward my wife. "Dead." My eyes drift toward the sky and lose their focus. "Want it...to hurt. But...doesn't." Julie looks at me like she's waiting for more, and I wonder if I've expressed anything at all with my halting, mumbled soliloquy. Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.
Isaac MarionThat's why we have memory. And the opposite of memoryโ hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can built off our pasts and make future.
Isaac MarionWe will cry and bleed and lust and love, and we will cure death. We will be the cure. Because we want it.
Isaac Marion