I've been posting a lot of six-setencers lately; sorry. I've struggled to find time for anything more. I've received another challenge, which I'm working on, and hope to post soon.
This story has been cross-posted here at "Six Sentences" Social Network. It's a bit melodramatic; I know.
She lay on her side on the bed, holding the paperback in front of her, absorbing the pages. The world within the pages put her into a trance that numbed the constant pain. She could ignore the ache in her own heart for a little while by feeling make-believe joy, anticipation, romance.
When she put the book down, the fictional world dissolved, and reality slapped her again in the face like a cold, wet towel. She dealt with the real world only as long as she had to, and then returned to her bed and to her book. There was nothing she could do anyway; they would keep digging until they found a man, or a body.