Kim M. Clark
I didn’t believe text. All the air had been sucked out of my
body. Joy and children’s laughter abounded around me as my heart cried out in
anguish.
My friend looked at me. “Are you all right?” Concern draped
her eyes.
I blinked. We were at an amusement park, our children
giggled as they rode the miniature rollercoaster.
I looked at her with moist eyes, “My friend, Will from Zambia, the one who wrote the foreword to my first book, died suddenly today.”
