She entered her bedroom, a quite sanctuary and lay on her bed. It was an unusual bed. A double; fashioned out of black cast iron and brass. The golden knobs at the foot caught the last remnants of late afternoon sun before it disappeared from the sky. Only this morning she had been carefree and awoke to a pale blue icicle of light between her curtains, which promised a fine day ahead. This was before she had found it.
Her eyes stared directly above her at the intricate patterns of the press-tinned ceiling; tracing the geometric patterns. She played a secret game of following the diagonals to make large and small triangles and counted the number across to the door. This was a pathetic effort to try and forget what was worrying her. It was unsuccessful and soon her thoughts returned like demons waiting to roost in her brain.
Her fingers felt the small lump in her left breast, trying to remember if it seemed any larger than this morning in the shower. The sun had gone completely now and she could see smoke ghosts rising from the chimneys of cottages opposite gliding upwards against the hills until they evaporated.
She invited sleep to come to escape the reality of this world and enter another. The warmth of the blankets hugged her frame, enveloping her like an Egyptian mummy. A rare moment of comfort and feeling safe. The street lamps lent a gentle glow to her room. Outside her window waving branches of a white Iceberg rose conjured up silhouettes which danced on her wardrobe door. Their hypnotic rhythm made her eyelids feel heavy and soon sleep flooded her consciousness.
If anyone reading this suspects they have a lump, however small, go get it checked out straight away, don’t delay. The chances are its benign.