The tips of her fingers pressed hard to her temples. This build up of emotions was becoming too much. Soon she would be like a fiery gas ball and disappear into the depths of the universe. But for now she was here. And she had a job to do.
2.30am, the significance of this? There is none. It was simply the time she arose every morning to find him there. If there was one thing you could count on, it was his visits. Two eyes, charcoal black, pierced through her living room window.
As she reached out to unhook the catch, a cold wind swirled around her. She could feel the energy surge through her. It was him. This familiar feeling was welcomed. It gave her sanctuary. It was the release valve of the pressure. It was how she remained whole.