Interlude

The angst returned. The tightness in her chest, the shake in her hands and, of course, the tears, all back.

In reflection, there was no mystery to why she felt poorly. It came down to the Day looming on the calendar, yet not signifying an end. This onset of frailty was simply a symptom of her sadness. Not just sadness but signs too of her loneliness, anger and, yes, pure unchristian rage at the unknown; although not for retribution. A greater being would delve out justice in due course.

She pushed her hands onto her knees to stop the trembles.

Young ones favoured the term 'closure' these days. At first, she'd baulked. Why shut the door on the best part of her life? But lately, she'd tried the word out, when alone or talking to God.

She had an idea how to find closure. It was worth trying, for what else could she do?

What did she have to lose?