(the goblin apologized for not putting it in quotes but the dark color plan just hurt his old eyes)
the road still winds it's way up the hill now, but on that dull day the driver just mentioned that it was here, from this point then, that the mother had just left her child in the car, perhaps to watch or otherwise, and then jumped off the edge opposite, without adding more detail than that then, so that now each time the goblin looked down at the deep ravine below, a vague but dreadful image horribly conjures itself up in the goblin's mind again, one that changed with his imagination each time, and of course the driver had no reason to lie or make that story up the goblin knew, only that this was his idle gossip here, something to say in passing as one curves along the road, "...so did she hate the child then..." asked the goblin of himself once more as he had before often enough, continuing "...or was she mad perhaps, drugs even, though I doubt I'll never know for sure now, don't think that the driver really knew either..." ventured the goblin knowing that all her belongings, which she had abruptly abandoned, her child, her purse and umpteen other signs of her ended life, would just be there on the passenger seat for the authorities to piece together here, somehow the goblin just placed some coins on the ghost's eye's at the memory of it, and signaled to the ferryman to continue with his journey then, but some ghosts return with the reassociation of the scene each time one passed, so here was probably one of those ever returning types, and somehow too, the goblin never got to ask what the ferryman did with those coins then