Some months ago I’d seen a sign go up on a slightly dilapidated Victorian house – Alzheimer Nursing Home
And driven past its silence most days, wondering about the lives inside.
I saw no one through its windows.
Short plump ladies in blue overalls went in and out .
Once a white aproned man stood smoking outside and a black suited lady alighted a 4 by 4..
But no residents were to be seen
Then last week a tall older lady sprinting along the road caught my eye.
Without bag, or key .dressed in a spotlessly white cardigan and patterned, belted polyester dress, her neat dyed auburn curls freed in the breeze.
Her face ecstatic.
Appearing to embrace not just the air, sun and trees, but the euphoria of freedom.
Rarely had I seen such a look of joy and expectation.
Later I realised she was most likely a resident.
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