Beate Sigriddaughter
Moving In
It is her last Monday of living alone, walking home to her four narrow walls. She smokes three
cigarettes. On the side of the road, there are thistles as big as young trees. The sun is laughing
down behind the hills. Will she have time and energy to notice next week? Sweet bitter
trepidations. Living alone is easy, eating straight from the pot, reading in bed till 3:00 a.m. Will
he like her black and white wildflower curtains? Will they have enough stories to last a lifetime?
She thinks of the gentle curve of his back. Where did he come from? Where is he going?
Tomorrow, the new mattress will be delivered. She needs to earn more money somehow.
Other work by Beate Sigriddaughter