I feel a little like one of those silly old puzzle boxes, where you slide the pieces around to make a single picture from them. Except that I am letters, jarring and gyring slowly back into a picture. The story is piecing itself back together. It's pleasant, almost sensual to feel color fading back in. To really start to live again. The depression is still there, a cold steady ache, but it is manageable right now.
D-rev.
