We stayed up all night to watch the sunrise. That is my last memory of her. After that night, things stopped mattering; life became a little less interesting, and the words that had once filled my pages so fluidly had dried up at the source. All this because of one mistake, my mistake.

That morning she got on a plane to fly far-away, I never expected how far it would mean. She had joined the Peace Corps and she had traveled to Afghanistan. She never made it to the camp. The transport she was in was headed toward a slum, and passed a dead dog in the road. One tire went too close, and, an instant later, everyone in the truck joined that dog in the street. She’d never see another sunrise again, at least, not with me.

“If only I’d agreed to go with her!” I yelled. Peace Corps couples ship to less dangerous zones. Too late though, because now she is gone, and I am alone.

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