Sunday, April 15, 2018

Thirty Summers # 126 Claine Keily

Today she dyes her clothes cerise to match the colour of her blood. She forgets to eat, because there is a world outside her window so ripe it fuels her.

She phones her father, he speaks of twilight, of his licence taken away, the falls along the pathways, and of names forgotten. When he asks what she is doing she tells him she is preparing study guides. "Ride your horse," he tells her. When he ends the call due to his weakness, she wonders if this will be the last thing said between them.


  1. I had forgotten cerise. those last words, I was working horses today, it would be a lovely last.

    1. Thanks James. My father has always encouraged me to live the life I want.


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