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Summary
Before Lorna's curse came to an end, her days were spent toiling to stave off her wickedness--to save herself and others from suffering.
With Auntie Whispers off to market and a stranger seeking shelter from the cold, she prays this time will be different.
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“Yes, Auntie Whispers,” her voice drifted from her mouth.
As the ghostly glow faded from her eyes, Lorna’s legs carried her up the creaking stairs. The compulsion to obey overcame her fatigue, ignored her wish to rest before the fire. Sleep would come only when commanded.
“Lorna, I shall return soon. A trip to the market is needed.”
“Alright, Auntie. I shall see you soon.”
The basket was heavy in her arms, heavier still on her heart, as Lorna trudged downstairs. When dropped to the floor, the wicker rattled. She felt her body move toward the washtub. Felt the cold metal warm as her hands poured batches of hot water into its depth. She felt her mind wander as her body worked towards its task without question.
Will this toiling ever cease? Will ever I be pure?