for Eve Some people love all the colors, not only the safe ones. Even orange. Scar of rust, shrill neon strobe… The color that
was certainly not to hook a fish, or stain my fingers with the reek of salmon eggs but to fling a line on the
My daughter quivers across from me at the table. A teabag leaks its copper blood. A clock’s ticking in the wordless air. She is