Rekindling the fire in her heart, she searched for the mystical bridge taken in by the fog, hoping to catch the miracle wagon going by. Humid and drizzling, the journey was still raw. Images of a dejected melancholic carriage left stranded in a dark alley, featured on the quarterly review. Conversation abound, negotiations on hand, doctor’s office was put on notice. The clock was ticking at the tip of the hour, unhurridly, one pointer at the time and as the fog began to fade miserably, the flock silenced the clumsy nightfall rescued by a peppermint light bulb moment.