Jeremy Clarke Jeremy Clarke

Low life | 6 December 2018

Never mind the black ink stain on Catriona’s new Kilim rug, where was the Sausage?

issue 08 December 2018

I entered the cave house carrying groceries and panting from the climb to find an old hippie woman displaying rugs to Catriona. Evidently Catriona had narrowed her final choice down to the two spread out on the red floor tiles. She and the hippie were silently contemplating them. One was about six feet by four, the other four by two.

‘What do you think?’ said Catriona. ‘Very ethnic,’ I said. ‘From where?’ The hippie woman asserted ‘Cappadocia’ rather too hastily for my liking. ‘They’re kilims,’ said Catriona, brightly and knowledgeably. Top of the class, she informed me that a kilim is a traditional prayer mat or wall decoration decorated with symbols and coloured with natural dyes. ‘Hand-woven by a devout and smiling peasant woman sitting cross-legged on the mud floor of her tiny hovel?’ ‘Oh fuck off,’ said Catriona.

I did so.

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