“ they surmised that she had floated from the stars in the navy blue sky. like rain at sea and no one to see, the coherence of these events and conjectures was never going to be accounted for. now nested in sea heather, [she] will, later, learn her tens and alphabets on a pillow in bed. and will sometimes wonder: little word, who said me? am i owned or free?
(fanny howe, ‘white plate painted with more white’ from “glasstown: where something got broken”)
