She’d been fighting off the crone since the moment she’d been abandoned in her fourties.
It had jeered at her in stark contrast to her youth’s vitality, attempting to hard-interfere with her plans to remarry.
Then all of that fell apart and the accident pushed her hard onto another track – which she’d been striving toward, anyway.
But as she applied makeup to her war-torn fascial contours and saw how the ravages of pain’s suffering tried to mold and reshape her to their designations, a peace began calming.
Maybe that bitch had had her reasons.
Maybe she’d been trying to ensure she’d meet the right man, in the right season.
Candid Corvid Productions 