The year was 1991.... a young fledgling rock star from Seattle was in pain. A lot of pain. Rigorous touring was not to blame. Soon the young musician realized something was wrong. Very wrong. His wife, that he'd had memories of but never actually met was missing from his life. From that time period in general. Trapped in 2012, she awaits a way back. A way back to change the future... a future that turns into a place with no Kurt Cobain.

A murder plot that turns into the most famous suicide in history, this site is dedicated to the small story of the husband who left a billion clues for the wife who figured them out.

Now her goal is to avenge her husband's death by pinning the murderer's with their crime...

Meanwhile she pours herself into her journal, awaiting the day she is finally reunited with her husband in time.

Letters to Kurt...

Monday, November 7, 2011

Dear Kurt,

there is nothing quite like hearing your brother cry for you and have no power to control it. The need to put my arms around him and you when you're out of reach is disconcerting. We are out of space and time with our family. I know you speak often of how you feel no actual relation to the family you were raised by. They bare no physical and no intellectual and no personal and no soulful resemblence to you at all.

It's as if we were all lifted from a different dimension and propped in some alternate universe away from each other and are fighting our way back together but have no control. I don't understand it, you don't understand it, but it's real. And it hurts.

"If you read, you will judge..." you wrote that, and that's what they are doing right now. Good for them.