Lettice

A quiet, sun‑dappled street in a small town frames the world of a young woman who is trying to keep herself together while her mother lies ill. From her window she watches a clumsy cart and a group of strikingly dressed Spanish laborers pass by, their brief glances stirring a mixture of pride and embarrassment in her. The house hums with the soft sounds of sisters arranging wild‑flowers, while the lingering scent of hope and dread hangs over every conversation.

Lettice’s attempts to suppress her tears quickly give way to a deeper, more conflicted sorrow, revealing the fragile balance between duty to family and the yearning for something beyond the walls that confine her. As she leans on her sister for comfort, the narrative hints at the pressures of expectation, the weight of hidden illnesses, and the subtle stirrings of a life that may soon demand courage she has yet to discover.