The Crone and I
I am a widow, and the word feels alien but good. I accept and fiercely hold onto the label, because this particular label marks my condition, and my widowhood is a condition. Body rhythms slow, life flat-lines, and everything feels wrong. I no longer recognize myself. My hair grows long and gray, my spine hunches, and my skin is deeply etched with tears. I am now Crone.In Crone’s world, laughter is replaced with silence, and time is measured in se-conds. Daily routine is completely demolished. T
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Apr 17th 2019