Round 4.

4 (Grace)

I saw Rob two weeks ago on the second Saturday of January; I was entering the supermarket to but some potatoes, he was driving past in a yellow van and I thought at first it was the postman.

He leant forward in his seat to wave; his body posture seemed to suggest that this was not an ordinary wave but something deeper.

I wanted to wish him a Happy New Year and best wishes, but potatoes were calling me and his journey was calling him.

So we smiled and we waved.

And now it’s too late.

Yesterday my daughter phoned me; she went to school with Rob’s daughter and they have known each other since birth.

“Grace had a car accident”, she was crying, unable to breathe, later I held her in my arms as she sobbed.

We had no words.

This morning the world is less.

Diminished.

And I am not sure that it is guilt free.

The village looks the same but heavy clouds overhead weigh upon us all.

She was only 21.

I will go to Rob’s house tonight, but I will say very little.

I will hold him close for as long as he wants.

this was missing from some earlier editions - the editor (me)

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