The mirror fragment and the chunk of earthenware it’s sitting on were things I picked up while out walking. The tacky flamingo came from my great grandma. The clock came from God only knows where. It’s loud, though. I can hear it in the next room, through two closed doors. Some nights, it’s like the telltale-freaking-heart, keeping me awake. It’s one of those noises that, once you notice it, you can’t ignore.
red paper boat 