Wednesday June 9th

Day 51

A thief came in the night and stole a begonia out of the hanging basket, trembling by the front door. I planted it the day before and hung it proudly. Just three trailing begonias with large crisp leaves and blooms the colour of sunsets, peaches and cream and churned butter. Chosen to welcome.

My favourite, the one I loved the most, was the one that was yanked out, leaving compost crumbs all the way to the gate. And a gaping hole next to its two companions, like a black earth wound.

So now I’m left wondering what precious part of me has been stolen, or that I gave away. And how can I reclaim her?