The old lady is in turmoil as she procrastinates signing her will. Should she leave her valuable old house to her angel of a granddaughter and her greedy evil grandson or write him out of it, or will it be too late? Day after day she came to gaze upon that document. Day after day her tormented mind wrestled with the facts, trying to decide, but merely making it worse and worse. How could she break out of the deadlock? How could she make this decision? It was her main preoccupation. Everything else in her life seemed grey, unreal. Nothing else seemed important. It was almost as if she was trapped in the moment, only to be freed once she had made the decision. There would be no going back on it. It had to be the right decision and it was up to her. No-one was going to help.