Notes On How We

Picked off the mushrooms grown on and around the bones that had been laid out beside the greenhouse for weeks now, weeks of sun and wind and rain and shattering nights and days, the mushrooms a vibrant yellow we didn’t recognise so when we went to remove them we snapped on plastic gloves just in case, not wanting to touch something we shouldn’t and get ill at this time of year, the sky a wash of watercoloured yellow and pink now as the sun set and then night and the dew came hard and the sun rose bright again, illuminating the pale webs the spiders hung across the gorse like ghost drapes, as if preparing for a redecoration, the start of another phase, something new to happen to our bones.


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