What The Night Holds

Night surrounded her like a black shroud. Crimson dotted both cheeks and hands, mingling with eyes swollen in puffs of bruised stress. Cool evening air blew harshly across face as sirens filled the atmosphere. Widow sat, vision unfocused, waiting for discovery at old life.

There were no worries. Nightmares could not torment now.

Stern voices ask questions of care. Are you alright? What happened?Is anyone else here?

Silence met inquiry until two uniformed officers answered requests themselves.

Exclamations arise inside prison masked as home. Moments later, cold steel wraps around wrists to detain. 

Fresh start, she wonders, or delusion?