The Bubble Angel for Darcy Clarisse She sought out a small lesion or freckle on the skin to touch with the tip of her finger while she sucked her thumb as if it formed some magical link, served some umbilical function. Other times it would be her hand up our sleeves much in the same way, as if to link up to our souls. Often she was like a pink flower, or more like the ghost of a pink flower floating quietly through the house intent on her own mysterious purpose. She spent hours in the bath floating on her back, only a pink smiley face protruding from a shiny halo of bubbles. Her hair floated straight out like orange sea anemones. |
-1991