I want to bottle the scent of freesias and give it to you, all my childhood picnics in an amber vial. That you may never be lonely in winter or forget the honeysuckle spring. I know it’s a big bad world out there but there is a paradise as well, a patch of blue sky [...]
Everything is slow this morning, making me wait. Even the keys of the keyboard can’t keep up with my fingers. I want them to go faster, tick tock, like the clock. Honey on my fingertips from little bear’s porridge makes them stick, all covered in dust.
Sleep in the corner of my eyes forms wax [...]
She doesn’t care enough and yet she cares too much, about the wrong things. Fickle fascination, winter hibernation, what is she so afraid of that she must shapeshift like this. Is it so hard to be one thing, just one thing for all of your days. She is scared of moths, she who hides in [...]
The Narcissus are blooming. Little gold faced saints gazing at their own reflections. They are cruel to their lovers who pine away unto Echoes on the wind. Most beautiful things are a little sad really.
Sorry Harry, but Mildred and Ethel won my heart first. Cold nights and bats and tapioca pudding. I’d rather go to Miss Cackle’s all the same.
I made a little moss jar, with the green fairy carpet from the red brick path. Rolling downs and feathery green flowers. It smells of waterfalls and rocky creeks. Cottingley Beck. I can’t wait to see who moves in.
When I was a little girl I used to borrow this picture book from the library at least seven times a year. I would always stare the longest at the picture of the twelve sisters in the forest of the leaves of silver and gold.
Artwork by Kinoku Y. Craft
