Hidden

Hiding her face, France, 2012 © Tanya Clarke - this photograph was taken with a very old Leica kindly given to me by my uncle. It’s almost impossible to use but sometimes I get something good.

Hiding her face, France, 2012 © Tanya Clarke - this photograph was taken with a very old Leica kindly given to me by my uncle. It’s almost impossible to use but sometimes I get something good.

Writing Prompt No. 56

Orange shoes. A summer dress.

A pink sweatshirt with a butterfly sewn in sequins on the front.

She zips herself in and puts her hood up. I’m hiding away from the sun. She says.

When she was 4 the paramedics worried about her high temperature and the rash that had developed over her abdomen. There were murmurings of meningitis. Turns out she had tonsillitis.

When her sister was about 2 she fell off the seat in Pret a Manger. Banged the back of her head on the metal table base. Blood everywhere. We ran out in panic clutching her as if she might bleed away. The cut was just 15mm long. The skin was stuck together with glue by a kind tired nurse in A&E. There’s a thin silvery scar there now if you look for it through her hair.

She always wore skirts. Or a dress. I was the same. Ten years on she wears jeans or leggings. I’m the same.

They both draw the most wonderful pictures.

The oldest marks pages in the books she reads with a post-it marker. To remind her to draw the picture that has come to her mind when she read that sentence or this paragraph.

The youngest writes and writes. Words are her everything. The way she sees the world, reflects the world, reads the world.

An eagle takes to the air circling high above the trees. I think it sees us living the way we do being the people we are.

Feeling brave? Want to share your own version? ‘Let it go’ in the comments below.