Lady in Black
In my town winters in the fifties were darker than now,
there had been a war and austerity covered the town
in a fog of poverty. It had snowed during the day then it
rained, thawing snow, in the evening it froze over again
and roads became slippery for adults to walk on.
An old lady fell on the ice we ran over, helped her up, she
was small, as an old porcelain doll so frail she could break
into bits by the lightest touch. She had nosebleed took out
from her lacquered hand bag a monogrammed silk hankie.
Droplets of blood on
white fascinated me.
white fascinated me.
Holding on to my arm I followed her to her gate, she offered
me a sweet, thinking of the blood, I refused. I didn´t see her
again. Perhaps she sat behind laced curtain too afraid to
leave
leave
her house. A memory of no value had opened up an everyday
occurrence in the life of a boy I once knew.
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