"Every holiday, as long as they both are able, Amelia and Minerva will meet at the rock just over the hill. "
This fic that captures the surreality of new grief and the giddy rush of first love so beautifully.
I love the portrait of an uncomfortable-with-herself and irritated-with-everyone-else young Minerva, and how young Amelia changes the equation, and Minerva.
The landscape reflects the tone of the piece beautifully, both beautiful and forbidding, and the way the author handles the transistions between reality and memory feel so real and true it breaks the reader's heart while uplifting it at the same time.
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