" There is a feeling, like the sensation when you can't quite shove the word on the tip of your tongue out through your teeth, that now plagued the man constantly. His every thought stumbled around like a toddler in a dark room full of sharp corners and the effort of maintaining that struggle was shredding the fabric of his mind. Anyone who has a typical level of mental agility would find this particular brand of suffering hard to comprehend. They possess the luxury of being able to remember where they left their keys or what color they painted their walls or what the wife who walked out on them a year ago used to order when she came to the coffee shop."

That's an excerpt from the piece I'm writing to depict Loss, in conjunction with Shane and Sara's paintings.