One afternoon, for some unmentioned reason, she walked barefoot to the top of the hill overlooking the sea. She loved and hated that spot. It offered a beautiful view of the sea but the water below was black, silent and she knew it was deep. Sometimes she imagined voices taunting her to jump and she would shudder at the thought.
She sat on the base of the mahogany tree which was her favorite spot. That afternoon she brought with her a favorite book, leather bound and gold edged Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth set in Palatino, which she has read hundreds of times. She also brought with her several ivory linen stationery papers, a black envelope and her Waterman gold-nibbed fountain pen with its gold filigreed barrel. All these fit in a resealable plastic bag which she also brought.
She meticulously reread the letter she wrote, making sure she made no typographical or grammatical errors. She was calm and unhurried. When she was satisfied she looked out into the sea. She stood up, looked back into the valley where her house stood among the trees and rolling hills. She knelt, folded the letter and sealed it inside the black linen envelope. She hesitated and for a moment could not decide whether to insert the letter on the chapter when the heroine was working in the field and had labor pains, gave birth and immediately returned to work or the chapter where after giving birth to another child she realized it was just another mouth to feed so the child miraculously died after a healthy cry. She chose one. She sealed everything in the resealable plastic bag with written instructions to the housekeeper. She set the bag aside and got up once more.
She looked back once again into the valley then walked towards the edge of the cliff. She closed her eyes and finally accepted the taunting dares from below.