She was sitting in front of the big heap of burnt ashes in her garden. Her lower lip quivering, her eyes red from crying and her skin, covered with rashes from the sparks coming from the fire.
"It's not a big deal", she heard her brother say. Oh! How she wanted to drown him! It was all because of him! It would be normal to a 'normal person'! But her? SHE WAS A WRITER!
How could THAT be normal to her? She closed her eyes forever after then. No....not due to the harmful gases coming from the fire. But, because of the pain she had kept inside, seeing her work being destroyed.
'A writers soul lies in her writings' After all.