Every moment felt surreal lately, like a haze… like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. He tried so hard to remember every detail. In his dreams, they became so clear that he could still smell her hair — like dirt and leaves, sweat… and the smell of peanut butter that seemed to stay on her in that last night at the mortuary. He could hear her laugh and feel her hand in his, so real and tactile that he could wake up and still sense them. The waking hours, he had to focus harder on it, to remember her touch, her voice, her eyes. Every word she spoke, every story she told, every song she sang. It was all burned into his heart. He’d never forget anything about her, but he was afraid he might.