One week until premonition.
The church bells chimed but instead of instilling happiness in the residents of Harrow Hall, it brought sadness washing over as a cold wind brushed through town. The temperature had dropped to such a degree that people were donning their fall jackets despite the fact that it was so close to summer, but the wind tricked us into thinking otherwise. A slow procession made its way out of the Christ Church of Harrow Hall, lining the steps as everyone began to look back at the doors. The hearse waited at the bottom of the steps with the back doors wide open, waiting to greet the coffin which now made its appearance as the pallbearers gently took their time leading down to the vehicle. I watched as Michael, Dorothy's one and only son, led the procession with tears str
