Dear Quiet Old Lady,
You were always old. Were you ever young? Or were you born a Jungian crone?
And reliable, oh yes, you were reliable. I never had to go to sleep alone, you were always by my bed.
It was comforting in a way, that predicability. No matter how awful the day, no matter what horrors it held, I could rely on you to hush me to sleep.
Hush me to sleep. Keep me quiet. So the awful days could keep coming.
Whisper me hush, wise old woman. I know what tomorrow brings.
Sincerely,
Gillian King