The end of the bridge
and you’re on the way home.
The end of the bridge
and you’re half-way there.
Hanna leans into the song, her face taught in emotion. Wind blows through her hair. Alongside her Halldór fingers the chords on his electric guitar. They are flanked by Bryn, beating out the rhythm, his drum kit amongst the rocks on the ridge, and by Jon standing against the fractured sky, a silhouette with his keyboard. High up in the mountains, they sing; words and nature bound in one.

Not quite there, yet. But I’m close. Close that is to the end of the penultimate chapter. Just working myself into the twist that will spin my characters full on into the final chapter six…