Hard Ground

There's a sheen over the snow, and small objects that fall onto its surface skitter across. The top of the snow has frozen into a layer of ice. Sometimes, my foot slips before I crunch through it. The nights might be long in the winter, but it's never truly dark so long as there is snow blanketing the ground.

The eggs have pink stamps reading 'Use By 9 March' that don't wash off even after they've been boiled, but the lettering blurs as if viewed through oiled glass. The carrots come in a bag that reminds us to 'wash before using'. Food is used. Food is useful.

I float through the days.

06 February 2014 18:34

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