DAMIAN BLACKWOOD
The days after his death passed in a blur.
The only clear thing to me in all that time was Eleanor, who I started to see even more frequently as we were thrown together by our shared love for my grandfather. I was not always in the house, but whenever I visited, I continued to be drawn towards her by how affected she was by his death, so much so that she had practically become a wreck.
Once, she had admitted to me that she could not stop thinking about how fast it had happened. He was going up the stairs to sleep in one moment, had crashed down in another, was in the hospital before she could blink, and now he was dead. She called it the fastest three days she had ever lived through, and I thought it was no lie. To me, it seemed as though all of it had happened in thr
