It stays with me

[smokingboot]

... And for this post, one must stop seeing me in whatever shape you normally might, and consider me as a little woman of the Irish roads, the roads that cross over the sea and under the sea from Ériu to Dál Riata, from Dál Riata across to Din Eidyn, south through Yr Hen Ogledd or north into the mountains of Alban.

There, you see how I comfort myself?

That memory of the knock the night before last came to me again, and suddenly I was so cold, even under my fleece oodie. I paced backwards and forwards shivering, and realised that my body was...is... afraid. I was scared yesterday of something far more real than presentiment, but it was a very different feeling and anyway, there's no call for that now. It's not like me, even when I have heard the knock before. Tonight we go out for a posh meal, today I will post Xmas cards around the neighbourhood, and fix our Crimbo lamp post which has fallen over in the garden. It's the ordinary things that chase away the strange. So today, I will be ordinary.

Comments

[bleodswean]

Tha's how I'll see you now, darling dear.

[smokingboot]

Thank you my dear ❤️