An avalanche has started where she is. She is caught up in an avalanche.

It is over. From now on it is a question of getting through it. Exist in it and survive. Rest, at times she finds it impossible to get up. Trust those who say that it will pass. It is impossible to believe, but some people say that the same thing happened to them and that time really is a great healer. Though that seems inconceivable right now. When she is able to get out of bed, she goes to another library to find better books about the grieving process, which could help her, surely there must be something. What can you do to accelerate it? Can you do anything at all to speed it up? Acknowledge your loss and mourn it. She lies on the sofa, acknowledges her loss and mourns it, screams over it, if it doesn’t ease she will kill herself, except he isn’t worth so great a sacrifice.

‘It will pass!’ says everyone she asks, she asks everyone, she asks the librarians, women in shops, the off-licence where she buys wine, shoppers in the queue at the supermarket, taxi drivers, they all say that it will pass, but can she trust them? How can it hurt so much now and not hurt in a few months, what if it goes on for ever? She calls the Samaritans at night and sobs. It’s all right, they say, just let it out, your calling us is a good sign. She starts to believe that it will pass. That it really is a matter of getting through it.