28 march 1941
Stephanie Hammerwold
she stood at the edge of the water like a soldier at attention, fully aware of her duty
the smooth round stones were held firmly in her small moist hands
the sky was calm for the moment, void of the buzzing and whirring of planes' engines
a thick greyness had set in with a slight chill that bit at her bare arms
the moon cast down its light upon the frail body of the woman as she placed several stones
into the deep pockets of her long grey dress
the hem line tickled her ankles with a cool breeze
her hair pulled back loosely in a bun was slowly coming undone while small wisps of hair
danced across her face
nervous hands reached down as the body stooped to reach the ground gathering a few more round stones
a look at the river with its calm flowing waters that lapped the shores
"Going mad again" for the final time, the voices cease
as down the embankment she walked with the grace of genius that is now gone.
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