The air had begun to drop cooler, and the sky was now a mixture of altering hues as the sun began going down. I had done nothing but sit on the porch swing and stare out into space, thinking things over since we had arrived at Ezra's home. Processing the events of the last 24 hours within my mind. Feeling like it was yet another dream. Only this time I knew that it wasn’t. The pain felt far too real.
Ezra had given me the space I needed, only coming out to bring me a drink, and at some point to place a blanket around my shoulders. Despite the space he may have given, I was fully aware of his presence either at the large window of the kitchen that over looked the porch and the garden, or lingering at the door. He was being there, while leaving me to do what I needed to do. Think. Process.
