Knitting knitting knitting.
It grew. It grew. It shifted slightly just that way and became a caterpillar.
A fuzzy caterpillar.
It slept straight through the pain, the breaking, the making, the knitting into a new life.
It emerged, for beauty.
Quite by chance, Plum Kennard has been around quite a while and is happy to be in this world. Her work reflects her delight in the magical moments of life, but also the grief & loss a long life brings.
It couldn’t be that hard.
Weeks of careful planning were in place.
She lacked one final step: action.
A glance at her watch told her she was out of time. It was now or never.
She put pen to paper, paused, digging deep, before finally succumbing to a consistent flow.
Hillary enjoys sending words to Tim’s house for consideration when her mind wanders away from the autobiographical words that most often claim all the blank pages at her house.
“Write what you know.”
Posit: the here and now.
Twist: the here is grubby, the now is relative, but menacing concerns lurk in the shadows.
Outcome: blocked; none of it matters.
Not knowing how long my cardboard shelter will last isn’t letting me think straight.
Monica Perez Nevarez is a sustainability manager by day, but is trying to transition into writing full time.