Quoted By:
>The Perfect Day
I reread this fic, and it was still painful to read. Not because it was terrible or anything, but because the quality of the writing mogs mine so thoroughly. What takes me a paragraph to impart to the reader, this fic does in one or two sentences. In a second person POV, no less! These lines, man:
>Even with her at your side, you are left alone with a divide torn between you. Without wings, you never had any hope of crossing.
>She rests her head on your shoulder, but you don't feel anything. Though your skin tingles and the weight presses into you, you know better.
>Just the entire conversation at the cemetery.
>The porch scene.
>Anon's whole conversation with his son.
>You decide to start walking. You didn't know where, and you wouldn't get far. You just didn't see much point in keeping the bench warm any longer.
These lines fucking killed me.
The writing, the plot, the dialogue - it all oozes with this bittersweet kind of melancholy where you know the end is near but have to make peace with it. Anon goes through all the stages of grief and it feels so raw that I'm too caught up to notice anything else wrong with the story. Man, what a depressingly good fic. I feel like I need a smoke.
Author, if you're reading this, tell me. Do they get to reunite in the end? Throw me a bone, a cryptic message, anything that signifies Anon and Ina will be all right.
