Purgatory

 Confession: your Fiorella does not like being alone in the dark. In fact, it frightens her so much that she screams, beats on walls, and cries for help. She's been this way as long as she can remember...maybe because she was a WWII child, when all the bombs were real.

Further confession: Fio's got a real mess on the other side of her bed right now--pens, tablets, wads of Kleenexes, a much-written upon calendar, and a plastic box full of pills. Well, what about the other side of the bed, you ask? That's where Sonia Dog's spirit sleeps, Fiorella answers, although sometimes the resident Persian--who's a dog at heart--makes a nest there and tries to comforts her.

As you can tell, your girl is melancholy tonight. Past times are winding themselves around her, reminding her of when she was a child, a schoolgirl, a wife, a mother, and now....a widow alone. 

Fiorella tries to keep up with what's going on around her, and she's thankful that most of her family tries to fit her into the their lives--but what about her own projects, desires, and dreams--the ones no on  else knows about? Will they always float just beyond her reach?

 How can Fio climb to the sky when there is no ladder?