What Has Happened To Dispel Hope

My cat was killed. Murdered. Gunned down by a car. In the street in front of his house. Horribly maimed. I was bereft. It had been a terrific week until it wasn’t. Then the tide turned and I started smiling again. Not forgetting but shoving back my poor cat. A child is missing. Two blocks from my home. He is twelve. I cuddle my five and four year old tighter. Looking out their windows, studying the street. Wondering what has happened to this child. Wondering who is out there. It hurts to sit. I struggle through ten days of it. On Tuesday I am in the emergency room. Sharp pains in tummy and shingles on my left hip blistering and angry now. Purple blotches, and swollen. Angry. I can do this. They hospitalize me four days. Shove me out on my birthday Even though I told them my pain is at nine. I drive home, feeling excruciating pain. Two hours later someone wakes me up. My brother is dead. I am done. Hope gone.