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We are all connected, whether we like it or not, to everything, good and bad.
For A Wounded Boy
Each evening an elephant bursts through the door to play hide and seek with the man who haunts this house. Boy pretends he’s not here, never welcomes the brute, relies solely on silence, hopes that he’ll disappear.
At cocktail hour, stinking piles dapple the den. Boy’s mother shovels them up come morning. As she toils, she hides found objects: empty prescription bottles, glasses dregged with wine, bruises. She pulls shame from pockets, tosses it into the brackish air…..
Philosophers stone – selected views from the boat
http://philosophers-stone.co.uk