Awww, another pretty moving fic. I really like the way Clara had never believed in ghosts, thought it was but a silly superstition, until she realized she was one-and oh, how much it hurt. You showed Clara's tragedy so vividly, just thrown somewhere, living but splinters of life,until it was time to die again. My favourite part was probably the one in which you evoked the life she had started to have, those simple things, New York and picnics and loveliness-and then it was all taken away, as her real purpose imposed itself on her all over again. *heartbreak* And you really used the egotistical theme, the way she lived for the Doctor and the Doctor only. Oh, Clara. But I did love the tiny hope that one day she could live a real life, be a real person, one he would see and know-real!Clara
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