She knew words were powerful, from the first time she wrote a story as a child and made her mother cry.
In high school, she wrote a story about suicide. Three of her classmates took their lives before the end of the semester.
In college, she wrote a story about wild, unprotected sex. The University noted a sharp uptick in pregnancies and venereal diseases that year.
In her twenties, she wrote a story about gun violence. Murders in her neighborhood increased exponentially.
One day, she decided to write a story in which everybody in the world was caring and decent and kind to each other, and everyone lived in peace and then ...
nothing happened.
Nothing changed.
She realized that there was, indeed, a limit to her power. To the power of her words.
Feeling a deep, profound disappointment, she sat down to write her final story, one in which every country decided to drop all their bombs, everywhere, all over the world.
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