The following is fiction:

A leaf fell. It would be the first of many that would fall from this old beloved tree, but the first to fall since that day in spring. I still couldn’t bring myself to say what had happened on that day out loud. The words froze in my throat, my heart constricted in pain, my lungs felt at once short of breath, but also as if they were holding in a wail of pain that would not emerge. Only tears fell. They fell every day, like little leaves from my soul.