Saturday, May 30, 2009


She came from Princess Ragnhild Coast. Just appeared one day, at my doorstep, shivering. Strange for someone who came from the cold. Her hair was flax, floating in corn wisps. I watched her body shaking, for a while, entranced that someone could move that much without trying to. Involuntary reaction, I thought. Doctor’s hammer to a knee. Pepper tickling out a sneeze. I took her in, bracing her tiny body. My skin above her coat of goosebumps. Which meant, so it went, that a stranger walked across her grave.

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