She slid a hand beneath the sofa and just sat on the dirty floor, her head buried in the cushion as if it were his shoulder. She wept at times and shook her head. She shivered with sobs, but she never spoke a word.
She clenched and released her body as if she were retching up tears. It seemed to be something she needed to do.
In the end she accused me of everything she could not accuse herself of. She never spoke, but there it was.
bigfoot, The Light on the Hillbigfoot, The Light on the Hill
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