Explore "Spring Came on Forever" by Bess Streeter Aldrich on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Clinging--watching--thinking,--life had resolved itself into these three functions for Hazel. Sometimes it seemed the easiest thing in the world just to relax and let go. There would be a few moments of dread, a few moments of swimming with the current, then oblivion, for she could see nothing within her own swimming distances to which to go. Clumps of trees, emerging from the rushing water, another marooned building far in the distance,-- nothing better than the roof to which she must still cling.
And there was the child, thrown so strangely in her care, sleeping his troubled, sighing sleep against the wet branch. No matter how painful the clinging nor how dulled her mind she must not forsake him.