I believe that Spring will arrive earlier than usual this year. I have not seen snow for weeks now, though the frost still appears some nights. Alas, I regret that I will not be here to enjoy its temperate and gentle beauty.
My discomfort, while consistent, has not grown to a point where I am immobile or infirm. Sometimes I feel it is akin to living with a murderer in the next room who has promised to keep their distance from you temporarily; you know they will strike one day, but you have no way of sensing when it might be. It is not a pleasant existence and I cannot recommend it.
I have decided to purchase a seat on one of the south-bound caravans. The departure will be rather soon, and I have little time to prepare. But as I live alone in a cottage that is not mine, and am of meager possession to begin with, it is no great inconvenience. The rent is paid for a full year, and most of my stores will keep quite well until my return. If I should return.
I suppose there would be a certain, bittersweet irony if I am to die in the place where I was born. I have only ever wanted as many leagues between that place and wherever I lay my head, for as long as I can recall.
My days have been quiet and I have had no visitors, save for that local couple who claim to be infertile and are convinced that I am some kind of witch who can hand over a cup of tea and somehow conjure an unborn babe into the woman's belly. I turned them away several times, even while the poor young man was trying to thrust a copper into my palm, as if that would aid them. I offered them the usual advice of trying both violets and roses in water, to be inhaled by the woman, and if that is not successful, clove and nutmeg. They did not seem to care for this counsel, but kept insisting that I must have something in my house that would instantly make their next coupling successful. Such folk can be trying upon one's patience, and I feel my forbearance being stretched thin when my own strength is slowly being sapped. I bid them to depart and not come again unless they are willing to listen reasonably.
There is no one that I need to inform of my departure, nor say a farewell to. Considering the creature of woe that stood before me some weeks ago, this is undoubtedly for the best.
