“Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.” Leonard Cohen
She reached for the old book once again as she did every Thursday afternoon. It was quieter here in the bookshop then, and she loved to pour over the pages in private, knowing that she would faintly mark a passage that he would find when, as he always did, came looking later, long after she had gone. It was a delicious game that hadn’t yet lost its charm. She found what spoke for her, placed a book mark and pencilled a dot next to “Let us go to the vineyards and see whether the vines have budded …. there I will give you my love.” Sighing heavily, she placed the book back on the shelf and then found her way out of the shop. She set off, determined to buy some grapes before she made her way home. Smiling, she left her door unlocked.
©Paul Vincent Cannon