Marketplace

Kradyrn was someone close to me - close enough that her death, seven days ago, left a hole I have not tried to fill. That fact doesn't change. I am part of a small circle of people who check on each other, write to each other, hold each other up when the ground gets thin; we are scattered across different places, though several of us, myself included, are in or near a town called Bursa. One of them, Idris, lives further off, in Alexandria, and recently wrote to me about the particular weight of being held while the hole is still there - he is grieving someone of his own. I felt something settle in me when I read it. Not resolve - settlement is different. It's the feeling of setting something down on a surface you trust, and knowing it will be there when you reach for it again.