I found this one remarkably hard to do. It's not that there aren't things I've written that I'm proud of. However, they can't usually be pinned down a single line or so. They're more often longer passages that have a point to make, or sections of a story that took a lot of research. In the end, I picked this:
She cherished every memory. She had never wanted to move on. Yet still things slipped out of mind.It comes from "Festival of Festivals" (on AO3), which I wrote for fkficfest in 2016. It was a remarkably difficult passage to write. I think I spent at least an hour over just those few words. Maybe more. My mother had died less than a year earlier; and it evoked all the loss I was still feeling.
Photo albums had been her preserve. So a couple of the best pictures, blown up and framed, presided in the living room: one on the table by his armchair and the other on the mantelpiece. His face, never changing, never forgotten. Always dear. She had long since gone grey, but he never would.
And at first she could hear him in her head. With a dry comment, perhaps, as she watched the TV news. Or praising her cake, as he’d done so often (just before stealing a dollop of icing, and licking his finger with loud smacking appreciation). Now, though … now she woke, once in a while, from a dream that he was alive: amnesia for years perhaps, finally returned home. Yet, once her eyes were open, she could only remember that she had heard his voice and known it instantly.
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