My grandmother first described the treasurelock as the place where St Francis of Assisi’s fingers crossed before his ribs — she did not say chest — as he prayed. These were early days when her sight hadn’t started to fool around and the moon hung in the blind spots of her control. As I grew and her knuckles enlarged she one afternoon described the treasurelock as the pressure between sand grains in the squeeze-ball the doctors had given her to keep up her strength. By now I had invested everything into typewriters and needed this talk to strengthen my spirits, as it were.
The Treasurelock
The Treasurelock
The Treasurelock
My grandmother first described the treasurelock as the place where St Francis of Assisi’s fingers crossed before his ribs — she did not say chest — as he prayed. These were early days when her sight hadn’t started to fool around and the moon hung in the blind spots of her control. As I grew and her knuckles enlarged she one afternoon described the treasurelock as the pressure between sand grains in the squeeze-ball the doctors had given her to keep up her strength. By now I had invested everything into typewriters and needed this talk to strengthen my spirits, as it were.