An old lady at the threshold of after-life asks to be taken outside by Gail, her agoraphobic grand-daughter. Gail refuses at first but finally agrees. They stop to admire the plunging fields ahead and the giant trees blowing in the wind. The old lady's face is illuminated by the evening light. Although helpless in her wheelchair, she has, at this moment, the majestic look of a Wanderer in the mist. Back home, she remembers Michael, her husband, who loved the autumnal season. She asks Gail how she felt out there and tells her that 'she is a good girl, that life is good... as long as we don't weaken.' She passes away the next day.

At the very end, Gail is out in the forest. 'Nothing' says a voice. 'Nothing' says a page of a book, placed so close to the screen that the typed letters appear blotchy, as if expressing both the word's intense negativism and humanity's craving for its existentialist deliverance. 'It hurts', the voice says, 'hadn't she known that when she was a little girl? Why did she think that falling in love would make it any easier?'. Suddenly, an inviting, glorious sunlight appears through a hole in the woods and Gail runs out in the open field.

Viviane Blanchard

Source | a-n Magazine