Less than a month ago, I was served with a writ of summons. For all intents and purposes, it is absolute proof that life is not fair. Counting my blessings, it is a battle for the powers to be because, I no longer want to fight.
Fight-or-Flight? Do or do not.
In the meantime, gewgaws keep me satiated.
iolite solitaire
At 7.30pm on Wednesday, I was shaken down to my absolute core. Nothing prepared me for what I had experienced. You hear accounts of others and think “Oh, it’ll never happen to me!” What eats me is that, if I could bend time back and experience it all over again – I would react in the exact same way. Faced with a pugnacious post-teenager, I was calmer than I anticipated.
1 hour later – I sat on a curb, weeping. Shaking in shock.
5 hours later – Calls were made and apologies were uttered. Shaking in shock.
7 hours later – Forced to take a sedative. As I laid there, I wondered “If I had my druthers, would I change a thing?“
After this morning’s ride, I reached down to my cross and realised that I had dropped “hope”. The pendant given to me by a dear friend who knows my soul. While, I am rarely sentimental about jewellery, but this was no gewgaw.
Slumping back into my seat, I felt utterly disenchanted. I must have lost it during the evening’s debarcle.
25 hours ago, my cold fingertips reached to pull the covers closer and, found hope.
28 hours later – I sit here still shaken but, I have hope now. Least, I think I do.
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