I stood like a penitent, head bowed, hands clasped and low. I could see my chest and my shirt jumping from the heart beating within, jagged up on adrenaline and fear.
Go away, September.
Too many awful things to process, unsolvable problems I cannot fix.
Bad bad memories being dragging back into the light.
And dear Rebecca ill.
And Dave Smith's sudden death.
And a child sent away.