She walked to the full length dressing mirror and stopped. It had taken six weeks before she could bring herself to stare back at the disfigured woman...imprisoned in the glass. Before that, she had only allowed herself to lower her head to examine the right side of her chest. The sight of the flat chest wall with the thin, red scar had caused tears and sobs for weeks until familiarity finally pushed them aside for thoughts of ‘At least I’m alive, aren’t I?’. The visits from the volunteer worker. ‘Thank you.’ ‘I’m very serious about my fire building, you know. Very serious. It has to be done just right.’ A smile stole onto his face. ‘Warmer now?’ ‘Mm-hmm.’ She moved to sit between his outstretched legs, closed her eyes and leaned back against him. ‘I love it here. I wish it could go on forever.’ She wiggled back farther, pressing close to his body. They sat for a time, both enjoying the quiet moment of silence, neither feeling that words were necessary or even appropriate. Simply. More

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