Take a stroll down Lullaby Lane and Call on Mrs Gwendoline Jones. She spends her days unpicking realities and re-stitching them into dreams. Every evening she can be found, needle in hand, leaning over her work. Her sharp eyes looking for spaces in the fabric, the colour changing in the candlelight; russet red to vermillion, bronze to gold, black to blue sapphire.
Tonight she sews a dream from a little child’s day.
She takes the peacock feathers seen in a window and stitches them into a forest. She turns a puddle into an ocean and on the shore an applique of madelaines for seashells.
She takes the bank of storm clouds and places them on the sea for the waves that crashed, and turns some unfamiliar seaweed into a monster, for she is not above high drama and Mrs Jones firmly believes that children must not be coddled.
She sometimes forgets to finish the hem.
Satisfied with her work she packs it away in the sewing box and as the morning sun rises she rests.
Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers and inspired by the photo prompt kindly supplied by Louise from the Storyteller’s Abode below.