Chapter 268

• Proserpina
• The darkness of the night surrounded me. I sat on the seat near the window, my knees drawn up, resting my chin on them, arms wound around my legs, staring into the darkness of the lawn below. From somewhere in the distance, I hear the sound of an owl, lonely and sombre, breaking the silence of the night. It must be around 2 a.m, I thought wearily, running my hand through my hair, undoing my heavy braid and untangling the knots absently.
• On the music system beside me, I was playing my favourite music by David Lanz, the composer and pianist. Sometimes when I was upset, I would play it and doze off on the recliner here by the window, a sense of peace washing over me, lulling me to rest.