Grief often arrives in waves rather than a steady tide — sudden, sometimes overwhelming, and then, eventually, receding again. You may cry hard on an ordinary Tuesday for no clear reason, and feel strangely fine the next day.
If your grief today had a color, a weather pattern, or a texture, what would it be? Describe it without needing to explain it.
In the journal this prompt has 8 lines. Here, take as many as you need.
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