Flung Forth

Red Snow

In increasing order from my door:

The doorway, where you stood and you told me it was over. Where we kissed, and it had within it the subtle but unavoidable knowledge that this was a kiss of the class “goodbye”.

Two holes in the snow, where I stood and watched you leave me, dumbstruck.

The footprints, each double-impression pointing unavoidably away.

The two that are reversed, as you stood and looked one last time.

Some snow, stained darkest scarlet, where the witch’s curse finally struck you.

A cairn, until I can return.

My own footsteps.


My target.

Your avengement.

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