The wind kept me awake last night with its howling and rattling. It makes me fearful, timorous. I walk in it anyway and allow it to buffett and badger me. I avoided the Prom, I neared it but it was too much. I watched as an empty crisp packet was lifted from the pavement and bounced and jangled along.
She said she was a journalist and recounted a story of buying a music box with a recording of Stephen Sondheim’s Send in the Clowns with her mother and how shortly after her mother died this music box started up of its own accord, not having been wound. And how it continues to do this whenever she is sad or thinks of her beloved parent. It gives her solace.