The older she gets, the more redundant she feels. It’s as if her life is a long corridor lined with different doors leading to activities past and present. In her youth, she could enter through any number of these doors. Going out to work, socializing with friends, trips to the seaside. Everything was possible. Now, most of the doors are marked with strict “no entry” signs. She is limited to hospital appointments, daily crosswords, and preparing easy-to-chew food. It’s not the end of the world but it’s a shrunken world, which makes her feel a lot less useful.
