The wagon stopped near the side of what was left of her home. Uri stepped down, and helped Tabitha down. During the passing moments, a melancholy ache emerged as she longed for her son. Envisioning Jon running towards her with her arms splayed to embrace him, except his image deteriorated before reaching her. Yet, she could smell, feel his essence traveling through her, changing her temperature from normal to a cryptic chill, a feeling that brought her to her knees. Boundless tears seeped from her eyes, leaving revelatory lines on skin. Uri knelt beside her and held her.
“Are you okay?” He asked, as her head lay on his shoulder . She turned to him, sniffling “I’m fine… really.” “Your eyes—” he stuttered, pointing at her “their—their b-bleeding.”
