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July 2017, vol 13 no 2

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Tom Painting


She plucked the stone from a farmer’s field below the Niagara Escarpment. Igneous and coarse – born of fire – it no doubt found its way to the base of the outcropping on the shoulders of a glacier. I pocketed the stone and later had it tumbled at a local boutique. Its surface smoothed radiated a vermillion heat. I planned on having it set in a pendant for her birthday, but things ended badly.

another stone I kick the temptation