Being confined to bed is increasingly frustrating as Vera regains energy and strength, and so she has developed a method of escaping (or at least lessening) her doctor's lectures -- sneaking out with the excuse of a legitimate errand.
Today she is outside, having managed at least to put shoes on (though not stockings) and get some water. She is washing blood out of a linen shift, and a black dress with a rather tattered-looking sleeve is hanging over the limb of a tree to dry. She's very careful of her right arm, and from time to time will stop her work and move it about as if that might alleviate the soreness -- and though it would otherwise be unnoticeable, it might lead a careful observer to note the bulk of a fresh bandage under her sleeve. And if it doesn't . . . well. The rather bloody water is enough to give almost anyone pause. Keeping herself in one piece is apparently not a talent of Vera's.
The movement as she works is quick and almost a little fierce, making her frustration apparent. Painful injury is more than irritating enough when it isn't accompanied by confusion.
Typist: Last night's log is
here. Contains violence, as you may already have guessed. >.>