mildred lived in an abyss of fury driven to inhabit the cold soul of an infidel who could only surround her in black. her last blue thought was the aqua of a god, a bullseye of love aimed at indifference. i could only wish to be the bravery she was known to exude in mere acts of being kind against death, and all the cousins of death. if i have any faith, it is soaked in these eyes that saw what was too tremendous to be merely accident. if it comes through me it is because i can remember blue, the calm of the blue, and how kindred i am to the holiness of it. ~helen