Click: Duvet Crossing

Click: true moments collected over the years. Stories too short for the stage.

The air is bright with snowflakes. I am waiting for the bus. Dressed in a duvet, chin held high, she makes her way across the street. Majestically.

Dressed in a duvet, a tablecloth draped and pinned over the top, she glides across the street as if across a Victorian ballroom, the skirt of her dress trailing over the polished wood.

Dressed in a duvet, a rat’s nest of hair spilling over her back she greets her guests, smiling graciously. She moves to stand in front of the roaring fire.

And I wonder, if I followed her. If I walked beside her and we side-stepped just a little to the right, in front of that Portuguese gift shop. The one that sells cookware and statues of the Virgin Mary – would I see her world? Would I take her hand and lead her to the centre of the room, and bow slightly, rest my hand on her waist, and twirl, and spin, until we are too dizzy to stand anymore?

Clicks are also posted every Monday and Wednesday on the Sage Tyrtle Tumblr site.

Photo: Rendiru