April 30, 2012

The last thing he sent her was a CD with two tracks: each half of a speech he gave days before he shot himself.

It took her nearly six months, but she wrapped herself in the blanket he’d kept on his bed in college and turned out all the lights to listen. His recording spoke directly to her, though she could hear his sales team rustling in the audience. He sincerely delivered the material, which was about finding hope during dark times.

When the first track ended, she pressed stop. Sometimes, it’s better not to know how things end.

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