Sunday, February 03, 2008

Horror

It was a scream. More like "Oh No. NO."
The word flowed, rumbled through the crowd.
Luna was dead.
All I remember is Star running out of the house.
I can't recall anything after that for a day or so.
I really don't think I saw Star ever again.

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1 Comments:

At 5:45 AM, Blogger visitor here said...

Dear Danny:

My name is Mark L. Vines. You don't know me (although you & I might have a mutual acquaintance in Lorri Oliver). I hope you can allow me to intrude upon your old grief. I'm very interested in Luna & Star. It would mean much to me if you'd be willing to share your memories of what they were like, what life was like, when you knew them, along with any photos or memorabilia that may still survive.

I never knew them. I don't even know the basics about them like how they wore their hair or what jokes they told or what music they enjoyed. I got to know Luna's dad slightly (several brief times) a decade or more after Luna's death; he was important to me. Your posted blog comment that Google only tells people what happened to her brain after her death while never hinting at what it was like to know her, it really unlocked some of my complicated feelings about viewing Luna only through her dad's narratives.

I'm trying to invent a work of fiction in which Luna & Star & the milieu in which they lived would be characters. It isn't worth doing unless it honors what they were actually like. Unable to imagine why you would, I still hope you are willing to help me. If I could find Star, I'd ask her help as well.

Sorrow moves in unpredictable ways. If opening a discussion about these lost loved ones of yours with a stranger like me is too painful, I'll regretfully understand. But if you think perhaps meaning or even a touch of healing could flow from such a conversation, I'd encourage you to speak forth.

All the best.
==
Mark L. Vines

 

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