Start at where you ended the fourth line and draw a new line down to the left. Connecting it to the point where you began is difficult. You can never really go back to the beginning.
Early morning
It is the morning Twilight, that fragile time between first light and sunrise. A few resilient stars blinked out a farewell as faint strips of purple and pink painted the horizon.
Dizzy with exhaustion, my daughter and I exited the hospital through the ER. The waiting room chairs were empty; mayhem still slumbered in Chester.
Ron survived the extensive surgery but, in a phrase often repeated in TV medical dramas, the surgeon told us that “the next 24 hours would be critical.” The damage to Ron’s body was massive; his recovery would be long.
The worst is over
My daughter and I clung to each other. “The worst is over,” I said, and I wanted to believe it. The wires and probes attached to Ron’s still, gray form belied my words.
My daughter nodded and leaned her head on my shoulder. “He’s still alive,” she said. “There’s that.”
“Yes. There’s that.”
She unlocked the doors of her car. Before I climbed into the passenger seat, I looked toward the eastern horizon where the rising sun offered a glimmer of light.
Faint hope. For that day, it had to be enough.
NOTE: Every school child can draw a five-point star. It’s just difficult to get it to come out even.