"memories of her"
-she sits up, when she can, in an old chair next to the tree outside, and she does not move from that spot for hours on end, sometimes from when the sun comes up to when it sets.
-she speaks some days but her gaze is clouded and distant, hidden somewhere deep beyond those hills before her. she would stay there in the direst of weather if allowed. in her moments of awareness she breathes deep like she will never taste fresh air again, and speaks softly.
-the rest of her time is spent in bed under a quilt. her window at the bedside stays open at all times for she believes she would be smothered if it ever closed. she can see her tree through that window.
-one would think her neck would be permanently affixed in the position, how long she stares out the window at her tree and watches the leaves sway. at night what presence remains is for her partner and her young daughter, and the clouds in her vision dissipate.
-partner brings the book, she calls for nieve, but her daughter stands hesitant at the doorframe. clinging the wood, unsteady, the daughters eyes stay affixed on her mother. they read books at night. occasionally, mother goes away.
-she will stop, seize as though something has clenched down on her. if she stays as still as possible perhaps she will live. and then she slips away, muttering and shaking. nieve cant see what it is that frightens her and that is what she fears; that it will prey upon her too.