The lonely mind in the busy city yearns for connection because it thinks human-to-human connection is the point of everything.
But amid pure nature (or the “tonic of wildness” as Thoreau called it) solitude took on a different character.
It became in itself a kind of connection. A connection between herself and the world. And between her and herself.
She remembered a conversation she’d had with Ash. Tall and slightly awkward and cute and forever in need of a new songbook for his guitar.
The chat hadn’t been in the shop but in the hospital, when her mother was ill.
Shortly after discovering she had ovarian cancer, she had needed surgery.
Nora had taken her mum to see all the consultants at Bedford General Hospital,
and she had held her mum’s hand more in those few weeks than in all the rest of their relationship put together.
While her mum was undergoing surgery, Nora had waited in the hospital canteen.
And Ash – in his scrubs, and recognising her as the person he’d chatted to on many occasions in String Theory –
saw she looked worried and popped in to say hi. He worked at the hospital as a general surgeon,
and she’d ended up asking him lots of questions about the sort of stuff he did (on that particular day he’d removed an appendix and a bile duct).
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