It was a year ago. We walked out of the house together and stood by the car. Something wasn't right and we both could see it. The windscreen was covered in ice and I knew we wouldn't get far without cleaning it. We had already been through so much together and our exit from the [...]
I really want to know what the basis of such brutal moral judgement is, and why we have somehow become addicted to digging out skeletons that have long decayed.
It's funny how we all change, somehow. It's inevitable. Even when we never really mean to.