135: When the Dead Return

Some times the needle stings.

Some times the fabric rips.

Some times the thread snaps.

And some times the dead come back to make us crawl through shadows on hands and knees until the rocks are stained with griefs and the walls echo with words unsaid and thoughts unspoken. On we crawl, mechanically, to the light of a new day.

Written by: Katrine H. (@katrinehjulstad on Instagram)