It’s getting late and the sun, long set, has retracted all remaining light to the far side of a half-sleeping planet, but Heidi reaches for another chunky log to revitalise the inferno all the same. Clock-watching is not one of her pastimes and she currently has all the time in the world. It’s far too dark to read, nevertheless the two volumes by her side have been well thumbed recently and their respective narratives continue tenderly in the tranquillity of her gently quietened, calm cogitation. She has respectfully not left her mark on Sam’s latest musings; there is no commensurate comment worthy of his thoroughly thought out, carefully constructed, professionally penned prose. However, ‘The Wisdom Of Kendrick’ has grown considerably, to which her exhausted black biro and acutely aching wrist bare faithful testament.
As twilight teases her from her Taoic trance, Heidi is profoundly aware of the gifted new day and resolves to seize it sensationally. She rises with the sun, leaving her slumbering rocking-chair unmoved. The heavy dew glistens, almost as the twinkle in her eye. Today is no less than the start of the rest of her life, and doesn’t she just know it.