A River Of Stones: Stone Number Eighteen

The haunting clatter of the snowplough brings me into semi-conciousness. I think of Jacob Marley and his endless chains. Feel those chains tightening around me --so many things I need to do and haven't done. I am laying flat, hand on jutting hip bone, paralysed with the fear of all the things I let slip, all my doubts. The snow-blanket muffles the world outside while my inner-world churns.