“There was a time,” the ancient woman said, leaning from her doorway chair, “when we had different traditions, other ways of being. We went out when we wanted, groups made up of passions and loves, could stack shelves and open doors without a thought, caught colds without worry – or not too much at least – hugged without concern”. I waited for her to say more: could this really have been true? I weighed it up in my inquisitive way, compared it to what my 9 years knew, decided it was lies. If it were true it would have been in books.
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Helena Marie is a wannabe writer, photographer and musician.
I love this