A third of her time has already fallen through the small gap that seperates the two halves of her hourglass. Time is ticking.
Eight is her favourite number, and as we all silently count down the hours, her smile broadens as she realises that the number that she has rested most of her luck upon has also had a significant role in her tragic undoing.
Three hours on a boat and we're all getting a little bored. Boredom is a sign of normality, and although this is far from normal, we all agree that the next item on the agenda is the long walk.
All of these things may seem boring, dull, something that we could do any day. But we can't. It's not like us to spend so much time together as a family.
It brings tears to my eyes once more to think that this is what's necessary to get us a little closer. Life is cruel, and death, it seems, is its generous cousin.
The park is well-placed in relation to our choice of location for the boat rental. The river runs alongside a lovely public footpath that leads to a forest, and so we tie the boat up and walk.
Father ignores the fact that the boat rental company specified that we were under no circumstances to tie the boat up and leave it.
I think that right now, we've all got bigger issues to deal with. Real issues.