Time, it was

The bell started to chime distinctly. Ever so, ever so. Looming. Just ticking over after the news and events of the past two weeks. Molly, she looked sideways, ever wondering at how long it would take. The blisters or the arrest would surely finish her off. The trust, long gone. She destroyed it all on purpose, knowing that with the pain there was no need for more. Purposely creating more pain through all. If Boylan walked away, finally and turned, there would be no more of it. No more pain and dreams. Dreadful dreams. They tossed the night, smashing the carpets against the wet cement in the morning. She only knew that if she spoilt the dreams, they would not come to haunt her time, after time, after time. Boylan hated her, in his cocked hat and with his wry smile. Still, so lovely, after all this time.

She can almost smell the grass, the tiny shots of brandy on the hill. The seed cake once more. She knew if she broke the glass with her words, they could not be shards to sting. Dreadful, so awful. Terrible and dire. Dread and fear. The tiny girl brought home in the police car, her only one daughter. Fear and more fear and only fear. What has he done this time, this time, this time?

A moving away to set you free. An unkindness to be kind. A firewall. A fearful fight to say life is not kind.

Look into the light and keep all three safe. All, all, all. All is lost.

Daring and dipping. What this time? The police knocking on the door. Dripping and desperate. Life is surely not kind. All is.