October, a few days after Michaelmas and the narrow lane shows signs of autumn’s progress. Golden-green crab apples lie strewn along the crown of the road glowing, almost lambent, in the half-light of the holloway. A grey murk penetrates the trees, a twilight wrung from the fabric of a squall. It’s a suitable gloom for the trek up Blagdon Hill in Dorset, a place already seeded by burial mounds and the field furniture of Bronze Age death cults.
Introduction by the Official Archivist of the Prefelicity, Dr. Pale Manilla Envelope.
Date: 25th Janice, 5011, Post Legacy.
The moment we realise we are pregnant follows the darker, larger news: the realisation of loss. K is in violent, harrowing pain and a pregnancy test confirms the best – and worst – news all at once. After years of trying for a baby, the silver lining flickers past as we swing between the comfort of achievement and no comfort at all.