Having listened to Perdita's compelling drive to turn right at the top of the bridge, not left, to take her back into the city, they carried on, up above the city. They travelled through the night and as dawn was breaking they reached a park overlooking the buildings, the dark river... But it had been a long walk and Perdita had started whining way back. Whine whine whine. Evie didn't want to be here anyway, she'd wanted to die. She was stretched to her limit to then have to face the whinging. She was never far from her knife and she'd used it in the past to quell Perdita when things were too much. But this time she would make it final. Perdita curled up, terrified, as Evie was ready to strike.

The older woman was walking in the park. She'd travelled to the city from her quiet remote house, something she didn't do often so she'd made an early start. Lucky she did, and that she was walking there in the park in time to intervene. She may be elderly but she's strong and hearty, she knew what was needed here...


This chain of three images came in quick succession and definitely mapped some process of my own. Not a new process, but one I repeat over and over. Having a Grandma figure is a new thing though, and comes as a result of therapy. She is someone I am trying to grow and develop to help me manage the enormous trials of living with such opposing forces as Evie and Perdita. Occasionally I do still manage to draw on the source of Grandma but much less so lately, which is why I had a long long time after this with no images at all :(