Isaac Marion
110 citations

I think for a minute. Watching my wife fade into the distance, I put a hand on my heart. Dead. I wave a hand toward my wife. Dead. My eyes drift toward the sky and lose their focus. Want it...to hurt. But...doesn't. Julie looks at me like she's waiting for more, and I wonder if I've expressed anything at all with my halting, mumbled soliloquy. Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses. ✨ Isaac Marion (2012). Warm Bodies: A Novel, p.51, Simon and Schuster

1310

DeathHumanityLove

3