21st June, 1888 — Near the Honeyduke's Rubble
Without work doing its daily effort to distract her, Sarah was feeling more lost than ever. The fog was making visiting friends or running errands more difficult than usual, and she was already running out of errands to do. Frederick had gone out yesterday evening, too, and left her alone in the house. She might've been relieved about that - without much work for either of them to do, they had been forced to spend more time in each other's company than they had in years, and nothing about it felt the same as it had once done - but instead she had been jittery and restless, setting the laundry to dry by the stove inside (the line outside had seen the last basketful drenched in the dusty fog smell) and going to bed early.
The morning had rescued her mood enough to head out early for a walk, with plans to buy some more flour for baking - and perhaps some flowers, too, so that inside would look more like the summer it was supposed to outside - and she had found her way to the shops easily enough. Laden down with things, she eventually found herself slowing into the congregation of bystanders looking on at what had - only yesterday - been Honeyduke's sweet shop. She'd read it in the papers this morning, but hadn't quite believed the extent of the damage until she could pick out the form of the rubble a few feet away.
Until all of a sudden, she couldn't - everything was plunged into blackness, a pitch darkness against which Sarah's eyes could scarcely adjust well enough to see her own hand, let alone the scene in front of her. Most people froze, as the seconds passed but the darkness did not. And then uproar: raised voices in panic, a cacophony of sound as people broke into confused movement all at once. Sarah was late to come back to herself, and shoved roughly to the side by someone who'd charged off into the street, her stumble sideways sending her knocking - unknowingly - into the leg of a camera stand.
The morning had rescued her mood enough to head out early for a walk, with plans to buy some more flour for baking - and perhaps some flowers, too, so that inside would look more like the summer it was supposed to outside - and she had found her way to the shops easily enough. Laden down with things, she eventually found herself slowing into the congregation of bystanders looking on at what had - only yesterday - been Honeyduke's sweet shop. She'd read it in the papers this morning, but hadn't quite believed the extent of the damage until she could pick out the form of the rubble a few feet away.
Until all of a sudden, she couldn't - everything was plunged into blackness, a pitch darkness against which Sarah's eyes could scarcely adjust well enough to see her own hand, let alone the scene in front of her. Most people froze, as the seconds passed but the darkness did not. And then uproar: raised voices in panic, a cacophony of sound as people broke into confused movement all at once. Sarah was late to come back to herself, and shoved roughly to the side by someone who'd charged off into the street, her stumble sideways sending her knocking - unknowingly - into the leg of a camera stand.
