Scattered
On the bed the tissues of last night's tempest have been shredded by white claws, white teeth. Strewn like confetti on the white sheet. Or unmelting snow on barren ice.
posted by tournesol at 12:33 pm
Turning toward the light
posted by tournesol at 12:33 pm
3 Comments:
The high level of skill and attention you bring to your writing thoroughly indicts you, I'm afraid, as someone in love with life.
The three monkeys story made me cry and cry. (But weren't they chimpanzees, really?)
Hang in there, sister.
Actually I think they were rhesus monkeys. Poor things. Although scientists still do it, quite why when the effects are so well documented I don't know. I'm hanging in there. Thanks. More than I can say.
Oh, I remember all of this too well. It ebbs, eventually, but never soon enough. We'll be here with you until it does.
It just occurred to me who you are, I think. If there's anything I can do, email me.
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