After closing the tab, Amari slammed the laptop closed and tried to breathe. Later he could go clean his contacts, steel himself for that brief brush with a line of direct contact. Until then, he set the computer aside and curled up on the bed.
It’s that kind of day, huh?
He was too old for this, too old for a mere phantom—no, a specter—to be causing this much distress.
Yet here I am, alone in the rain. Just like back then.
Amari is a writer who never took any time to grieve the end of a relationship and his unresolved issues with the situation are finally coming up to the surface and worse than that, they’re hindering his ability to write. With deadlines coming up, he’ll have to figure out how to channel all the negativity he’s been holding in into something productive.
