Gaza The blue nearly gone, and the green, because sky and grass, of course, but also a horse she insisted on painting blue. Horses aren’t blue, her cousin said. She nodded — her cousin was older — but kept coloring the horse the color the horse she’d seen in her dream had been. She never finished it. Here are her watercolors, the green nearly gone, and the blue.
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One I read and read again, and find grief every time. Makes me pause.