By. Elizabeth Garden
The more the car climbed up the winding, steep road up to West Rock Park, the more sweaty tendrils of dread spread over Gerty like a fever.
All the car windows were down and a fine, distracting breeze blew in a fragrance of wild rose and mountain laurel. Disassociating herself from her worries by noticing the beauty of the busy butterflies and blossoms set deep in the woods, the dappled light filtering through the trees and the cheerful song of birds flitting about that all fit together like a beautiful assurance that actually everything was actually hopeful and bursting with life.
Raymond took the breeze stirring and clapping the leaves together as a sign his decision was being applauded.
Or perhaps they were just waving goodbye.