Rearranged
<p>Lena thinks about what she really wants. Not for her family but herself. What would be the best in life? If all were wiped out what would I save she wonders. The mountains she reflects. The snow in winter. The village gatherings. My son and daughter. My dishwasher. But no, I would not preserve my husband, in laws, or this house. She grows despondent. Swishing, swirling, watery mists of silvery sea, welcoming seagulls hover, over the boat. Rushing, thumping, roaring, rhythmic waves, against the wharf.</p>
<p>Her first night filled with familiar language, food, visiting countrymen and their families come to see the bride –to- be and hear news of home. Her hair so long she spends an hour each night in the bathroom. She brushes, she plaits. Black jet, shiny, thick down to her waist. In the morning she pulls the plait up placing combs and hairpins carefully. Her husband cleans the shower outlet which becomes regularly clogged.</p>
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