The sun shone vehemently; keen on making up for the colder days we had endured up until a week before when, suddenly, it felt like the seasons had woken up from their slumber, hastily jostling each other out of the way.

Do not hurry,Tarry a while.For the flower shall wilt.The child will grow.The sun will setAnd how many of those have you missedIn a lifetime?How many have you seen?

A little voice spoke up in the darkness once. “It would be awfully nice to have some light here.” But the other voices, always so critical about everything, hushed it back into silence. At least for a while.

I have an owl on my mantelpiece. It’s white, made of porcelain. It has a small chip on its left ear, from when I was in one of my rages, when I had swept everything from the shelf to the floor.

There was one other time when Death had shown itself to Ellen.

Come in! Oh don’t be shy dear – no, no need to take off your shoes. Heavens! If all my guests were as courteous!