Wednesday to Saturday
Wednesday In the garden of the house we share there is a small bower of trees which encloses a seat. When she needs to think it is to that seat that she goes, for the quiet and the lack of diversion. I am not allowed there unless she takes me with her. It is her space. I sat in the room overlooking the garden and watched as she walked to her seat in the late evening sun. She is tall, lithe and graceful. Her dark hair is thick and shines in the sunlight. I watched as she turned and smoothed...