She was coming back to life against her will. She'd made her peace with her patch of ground, with her malicious thoughts, and her fear of the great big void.
I don't think this needs a lot of explanation, so I'll just leave you with the image. With only four pages remaining on my current Moleskine, I am seriously considering an alternative sketchbook to work in. I simply can't get my head round paying £14 per book, it's extortion!
