2 Quotes by Robyn Sarah

Zero HoldingI grow to like the baretrees and the snow, the bones and furof winter. Even the greynessof the nunneries, they are so grey,walled all around with grey stones—and the snow piled up on ledgesof wall and sill, those greyplanes for holding snow: this is howit will be, months now, all so still,sunk in itself, only the cold alive,vibrant, like a wire—and all thebusy chimneys—their ghost-breath,a rumour of lives warmed within,rising, rising, and blowing away.

The past is uselessto me now:an old suitcasewith mould in the lining,heavy even when empty.