Monthly Archives: January 2017


Every now and then, she lifts her pencil from the pad. She considers, tilts her head: first left, then right. He twitches and grumbles in his sleep. She smiles. The pencil lowers, scratches paper, shapes the dreamer.

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In a bush

She’s a little defensive of her corner of the enclosure. The zoo is her home so she’s never alone, but the bush gives her some sense of security.

It’s hers after all. She’s worn it and shaped it. She’s protected it from the others.

It was taller many years ago. But the bush seems content to grow out instead of up.