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Helen of Sorrows

By Jordan Kurella
Aug 10, 2019 · 3,877 words · 15 minutes

Gnarled forest trees

Photo by Annie Spratt via Unsplash.

I once thought that the dead stayed dead, and the grieving stayed grieving. That my husband Alex would be in the ground forever, rotting down to his to bones. That I would mourn him until I joined him in the plot we picked out fifteen years ago when we were both healthy and death was just a joke. I thought that until this morning, at least. I thought that until Alex actually came back to me, for good.

I found him in our back yard. In the sinkhole he swore he’d fill before he died.

Alex...

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