Forbidden things were hidden away on a shelf in her father’s office. Musty hardback books that only grown-ups should look at. An antique letter opener shaped like a samurai sword. Catapult and cap gun; confiscated contraband, never to be fiddled with again. Even on a stool, standing on tiptoe, she still couldn’t reach. “It’s unlikely you’ll ever be as big as me” her old man would tease.
Putting the urn in its place, she wonders how something so small could possibly contain someone who was always much larger than life. And when exactly was it that she got so tall.
“Twenty-six letters rearranged then placed upon a page never ceases to amaze.” – the writer