I find myself almost obsessed now with car accidents. Every day, I search Google for crashes and death tolls. I search for Chevy Cobalts that caught on fire. I search for crash tests and journal articles about the biomechanics of thoracic trauma. I have considered requesting a copy of the coroner's report to see exactly what happened to my daughter in her last moments. I already know from the death certificate how she died. It just isn't enough. I want to know everything about it, from the second the car started sliding until the fire was put out and the bodies removed from the car. I want to see photos of the cars, the accident scene, the skid marks. I know it's natural at a time like this to feel as if I am going crazy, but … I feel like I'm going crazy. It's been six weeks now and still none of this feels real. It's still as though I'm sleepwalking or having a very weird and unpleasant dream. It feels at once as though she never really left and as though she was really never here to begin with. Either her death is a nightmare I am trying to escape, or perhaps she was a beautiful dream that I am reluctant to wake from.

On a brighter note, my co-worker gave me an Avenging Unicorn Playset, complete with Avenging Unicorn, Mime, Annoying New-Age Bookstore Lady and Business Man. The unicorn comes with four different horns with which to impale the included action figures. Also includes a beautiful background diorama of a mountain range complete with rainbow and waterfall against which to set the tableau of vengeance. I have to confess that impaling the mime was way more satisfying that it really ought to have been.

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