ZOE 08. ZOE It’s a strange new feeling for me to dip my fingers and hands into the dry earth. The sand sticks under my fingernails and colours my skin red. I let the pieces of stone drop from one hand to the other. When I press them hard, they disintegrate. As well as earth, there are old plant roots and sometimes there’s even a worm. I nearly cut the head off my first, when I was using the spade. Then, when I carefully lifted it out of the ground and looked at it in the palm of my hand, Finn only rolled his eyes. I annoy him terribly. It starts in the morning, when he wakes me with unfriendly words, and it goes on at breakfast when he watches with eagle eyes just what I eat and how much. It’s like he’s making a list in his head, so he can send me a bill later. But although he can’t stand me, he rarely leaves me alone, following me around like a black shadow. He’s tormenting not only himself, but me too. Whenever I dare to forget that this isn’t my home, his piercing gaze reminds me.
