‘Where I lived – winter and hard earth.’
Demeter was considering the past tense. She had been sat reading her friend’s hand for at least an hour in the small room at the side of the house. The house was for sale she noticed and the red and blue sign just outside the window made the warmth of the hand slightly unreal. She felt the shape of the hand and the way the thumbs bent backwards as she held them. There were lines everywhere and as Demeter turned each hand towards her, the lines ran off Amy’s palm and vanished into the past she kept telling herself. Into the past.
She could see a shoe. It had a purple flower attached to a silver buckle – with love Demeter decided. The shoe was on a chair in a hall as if someone had picked it up and wanted it to be found. And Demeter could hear the sound of a voice calling for Thomas.
She took a breath and smelt cinnamon.The hallway became lighter and a door opened to a black haired boy carrying a muddy dog. Found her! He had a cold, He pushed past the chair and dropped the dog. Clay prints formed all over the grey tiles and Demeter watched the dog’s tracks to the red door at the end of the hall. More cinnamon as the dog ran in and Demeter saw Amy’s father smiling as he he never had on the photograph. He had been dead for seventeen years.
