Part 23

It was her teeth. Her clothes.  The basket she held.  The ear rings.  The neck scarf.  The taint in her skin.  The distance travelled. The centuries.  In caravans and carts.  The poverty.  The pain.  The prejudice.  Smoked skinned ceremonies.  Horses. Dogs.  Bare fist fights and flights of fancy.  Her hereditary Y chromosome.  This girl.  A scattered star.  Religious icon.  Provocative.  Restricted.  This diamond.  This jewel.  In front of me.  Alongside two others.  Selling pegs and heather. She saw me.  I remembered her.

© swissterrace 2021
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PilgermannBM

the distance travelled. the centuries are part of our dna – we cannot flee from what we are, where we’re going. I see hope in this.

Bhi

ST, can i ask whether this woman has a special place in your life. She is a recurring theme. Beautifully written as always.

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