Nekneeraj has given us this Levent Erden image to work with this week.
We are invited to write a poem or piece of prose accordingly.
Becka had been acting strangely and extremely secretive. Little things had started to go missing and when discovered in her toy box, Becka had blamed Sophie.
Then Rachel found photographs that had been ripped to shreds or the faces of adults obliterated with black marker. Becka said Sophie didn’t like people much, but was happy to play with her.
Rachel grew worried, even though she told herself she was merely a child and it was not unusual to have imaginary friends.
But this friend was too real.
The shadow lurked in the background.
Becka had found a toy broom in the closet and the hat at the back of her Mom’s wardrobe.
She liked playing dress up.
‘Look!’ she said. ‘I’m just like you!’
‘Ah, but can you fly?’
Becka shook her head sadly.
‘I don’t know how. Can you show me?’
‘Maybe. But not now. Your mother’s calling.’
‘Becka? Honey? Who are you talking to Sweetheart?’
‘Just Sophie Momma. ‘
The two-tone giggling sent shivers down Rachel’s spine.
Just chilling out . . .
My spine as well…
haven’t read it yet Michael, working my way through today (running late)