Many of my friends are dead. I don’t mean that I lost them over the span of my life—we were never alive at the same time. Many of them lived on different continents before flight technology was available, while others couldn’t speak a lick of English. But none of this matters; we share a deep bond. I’m not sure it’s even accurate to call them dead. Their blood courses in ink throughout pages encased between two covers. Every time the book is opened, a heart begins to beat and a soul is animated back to life…..
read more at fathom. https://www.fathommag.com/stories/the-communion-of-all-the-saints