Another kind of loss. A troubled life. A mother a wife. Violently taken.
Driving home one night after an after training pint in the Vicky bar near the river, I saw a woman standing out on the corner edge of the pavement. I thought her positioning was strange so I slowed and looked. She waved, so I slowed some more, wondering did I know her. She started running towards the car. I realised what was happening, waved back and drove on.
The next morning I read the reports. Further out along the river. Away from the centre. A murder. A street working young woman.
