Thursday, June 2

Past the tower to the stars in a stern, wise sky.

When she was a child, memories of her evening toilette were mostly of a maid tugging at her hair with a comb that always had not quite enough or rather too many teeth, the uncomfortable process of the toweling off of hands (they always stayed a bit damp despite the maid's best efforts), the scrubbing off of smudges gained from sources unremembered, and the rough scraping of teeth with spicy paste on a coarsely woven rag.

Afterwards, she always felt as if she'd been tugged and pulled and pushed about till she was dizzy; and she was glad to finally crawl under soft sheets to peek out the window, past the tower, to the stars in a stern, wise sky.


Craig said...

I can't help but wonder if this is autobiographical. By the way, the signpost to Stanhope is posted at I'll post some other pictures as I bicyle about.

Craig said...

On another subject entirely, do you know who is the person on the other side of the planet who balances you? Antipodes.