Emi finds the deer in the forest. It hasn’t been dead long, is still warm. It reminds Emi of her mother, something about the grey around its eyes and the sagging nipples on its belly. Emi has the urge to lean down and suckle.
Emi will be 15 this month. Her mother is planning a party with peony centrepieces. Emi finds the whole affair grotesque.
Emi sits down in the dead leaves
