Here's the prompt:
Some mornings she felt like she couldn't even ___________. But this morning, she knew anything was possible. Maybe even _________.
"Some mornings she felt like she couldn't even hold his hand. It felt wrong, put-on, like somehow pressing the soft peach flesh of her palm to his was a lie. She had spent the past four dozen years of her life by his side. But it was starting to become monotonous. If you do anything long enough, it becomes a pattern, a circle, a groove notched in the ground on the path that you tread daily. But this morning, shining with a silver light through the dusty, shabby windows, she knew anything was possible. Maybe even death."
Wow. That got morbid.
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Go with grace.