Cookies. Yum. But bad. Happy but sad. She loved baking them. But she couldn’t eat them.

Everytime she went to take a bite, tears would start streaming down her face. She was reminded of how she would bake with her loved ones. Now, she baked and there was no one around. Yet she continued the tradition. It kept her alive, albeit sad.
Categories: death, identity, mental health, photography, Psychology, writing prompt
True Those Cookies Look
Too Much Like A Work of
Art To Chew on Them Yes
Picture Perfect Is Okay too
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