“must represent the %% governess for, of course, the creature itself could not inspire such terror.”
staring at me fixedly, no
trace of recognition.]
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When summer ended the leaves of snapdragons withered taking their shrill-colored mouths with them. They were still, so quiet. They were violet where umber now is. She hated and she hated to see them go. ++++++Flowers born when the weather was good - this she thinks of, watching the branch of peaches daring their ways above the fence, and further, two hummingbirds, hovering, stuck to each other, arcing their bodies in grim determination to find what is good, what is given them to find. These are warriors distancing themselves from history.*********************They find peace in the way they contain the wind and are gone.
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If I failed to overlook the torn cushions,
!!!!!~~~(((((((
three teapots side by side,
strewn towels, socks, papers—
{{{**()**}}}
both foreign and stale.
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After five years {The fear that you are not at home.} *()!@#$%%^&*__+=
I was sitting in the alcove where,,,,,,
I never sit when I noticed a single eye, crudely drawn in pencil, in a corner near the floor. The paint was blistering—beneath it I saw white.
They were still, so quiet. They were violet where umber now is. She hated and she hated to see them go. Flowers
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5.5. Sparrows settle on the sagging wires. (Fear of sights not turned to words.) Horrific. Grisly. “Rumplestiltskin!” Not my expression. Not my net of %%^^%^ veins beneath thin skin. (A morbid dread of throbbing.) Of its own accord ^$&7
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