Faded Houses Green

Reading Ulysses in Montana #482

Clutching her empty desires for nimbles of thimbles, the seamstress entered the madding crowd to seek out the oysters of forgone distress.

Ordinary habits sewn with halting care and discursive comments gifted a dower of answers and sumptuous books–never once stopping to consider the battles of passions raging in their fifth of amity. Clementine, on the other hand, remembered how the flag drifted, like socks in a game of tug-of-war when empty scours of sour pleasure measured it a little too tightly for the nightly game of gibber and dread. Lead weights could not resist the impending charm of her majesty the seamstress and her royal retinue of sinews and yarn.

Spinning a good yarn was her great severance from the past and mighty reparations for futures of sutures.