Cherie Hunter Day
There's a protocol to follow when you enter a ruin. Draw gridlines before dredging up the past. Truth is hard. It's flinty in this hillside weather. We are unearthed together like a shattered pot and a reworked socket. Those are flakes of obsidian. Roughhewn but evidence that something's been worked upon. Note the hearth soot comes from our own fires. Find a shim to correct the unfortunate wobble. The order is last things first, not the other way around. The nature of dust—what's yours is yours and what's mine is yours.
first session the soft grey fur of the therapist's cat