I pulled around behind the car slowly and could see the blood on the back window. I continued on and once we were even with him, I stopped and turned my head. From that side, it was painfully obvious that he had shot himself or had been shot. I looked back at my dad. I will never forget the look on his face.
Stephanie Pina was just sixteen years old when she saw the dead man; the memory of him never left her and for the next 25 years it occupied an uneasy place in her mind. But then, one day, she read Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane and in one fell swoop, or rather, scene, a healing took place. This is one of the best posts I have read in a long while. First and foremost, it tells a dramatic story with a happy ending; secondly, what Neil Gaiman did by writing his book, you and I might do if we take the the plunge and write the book that is within us. Get plunging! 😉