The snow had stopped,but still, she refused to go outside.She sat frozenin her grandfather’s beloved armchair,unable to move, unable to speak.You would thinkshe was the one who had a stroke.But the ice was beginning to thawand new things were beginning to growand it occurred to herthat the housecould use a good clean sweep.And so, she rose,determined to clear awaythe cobwebs of her soul.She dusted the manteland cleaned out the cupboardsand polished the silverwareuntil she could see her own reflection,and suddenly,the place felt far too coldand too dark for her liking.“No, no, no,” she cried,as she pulled down the drapes.This was not how her lifewas supposed to look.And so she changed it.And the drapes fell.And she let the light in.