“Talk to me I’m here to listen,” said the mind but the heart had decided.
Razor in hand she saw a little girl running around talking to the trees.
Thud! A gust of wind closed the window; the girl had vanished.
Looking around the house what a vision it was, not a thing out of place
fancy drapes, matching silverware, candlesticks above the fireplace.
Resting on the rocking chair she placed the razor on the table, made herself a fresh pot of tea snuggled in her favorite quilt and dozed off to sleep.
Another day perhaps, another lifetime.