800

800

I will work carefully in their memory, setting up records, collating grainy little prints. Sifting through faces of children like ghosts. I will smooth the ragged edges, form memento mori of 800 who fell where the dirt is. A system of simple navigation, sensitively created. The archive will contain grainy little prints, ghosts but no hope of understanding nuns who were never near to any God. The darkest of chambers. Shadows of grotesque things.

First published by ‘Paragraph Planet’.