Firefly Glen yomblod

"home to my husband's grave." and though no elaboration was forthcoming, even that was by design; she did not want him to follow her. arms ached to hold him a last time again, though they had never been tender before. skaigona desired so desperately that anselm understand her lack of ill will.
but it was not to be, and even this discourse was weakening her, little by little; strength sapped, she sank down once more and tilted her head in sunflower aura to the little warmth offered by an autumn sun.
"goodbye, anselm. be with our boys."
and tears threatened again; her throat tightening.
skaigona offered a last smile to the man she had wished so much to love and turned away, folding fawnlike into the winter-eaten foliage. if she continued to gaze at anselm she might move again, and his pulling away was not tolerable, not something she could bear again. again, again.
not until she heard him retreat would she weep; not until she was sure he was gone would skaigona cover her face to smother the sobbing.
nearer my god to thee