Welcome to another Sunday, dear sixers. Hope your week was prolific and healthy. I look forward to your comments on
To Be Continued as Beth Malone struggles to regain equilibrium now the balance of her life has turned upside down.
In the shower, under the pulsating stream of hot water, Beth emptied an almost full shampoo bottle on short brown hair. “I want my forty years back,” she whispered through tears choking her throat. Too much conditioner followed the abundance of shampoo as she braced trembling arms against the shower walls and sudsy water sluiced down her body. Wrapped in a striped blue and yellow bath towel, she dripped her way over to the crumpled letter, stomped on it and walked barefoot to the small balcony outside the bedroom.
Shivering in the chill of a late March morning, Beth Malone surveyed the property as far as she could see. The beautiful pool slept under a green cover soon to be removed and she’d swim every day in the heated water so warm you could make soup in it, Frank would say; would—past tense.
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