Here are some of the results…
I see her
She is luminescent, ethereal even. She could be one of us. Her form is human – yet, there’s a turn to her instep that hints at a hoof.
Could her fringe be a fetlock twisted in strikken fingers as she gallops men to their doom?
Or is she simply a weary traveller in need of a broad back and four legs to carry her home?
I step from the loch, engaging my most placid gait and make my way to the maiden.
She breathes into my nostrils and I consume her essence. Human all right.
“Hop on,” I whinny. Her eyelids flutter and she exposes her throat. She climbs on to my back.
Just as they all do…
55 words – inspired by a photo of a patch work quilt
The Barren Seamstress
She spends her days cocooned in the quilt she’s making. Her own dark space, womb like and separate from the emptiness outside.
Each new patch a souvenir.
“Shhh,” she soothes, “be still my lovelies.”
The slivers of fabric squirm as she stitches in the tears.
Love letters to Mamman and the Devil
1 – baby
wear disposable nappies, you said. Like astronauts. You felt
cumbersome and awkward while the milk dried up allowing you to work
four weeks after giving birth. The men in the office gave you papers
to file in the bottom drawer, just to watch you bend over in your
You will be able to see the others and perhaps join in if you catch this by the 4th Sept – on Leone Ross’s facebook page