IN FOG

WHAT IT IS

The land of one hundred women culminates from the fertile imagination and the spiritual essence of the one hundred women who reside there.

In the land of one hundred women life is lived as it is, not as it should be because they put no cards on the table with no games to be played, no fights to win. The spirit is the religion, the religion one another. Their children are of the universe, they are the souls of the deeds within their hearts.

Their food is the feast of empathy, stomachs full with the generosity of sisterhood.

Their lust is the tears of the forgotten, these tears give purpose and product to bring them home again.

In the land of one hundred women they are intertwined with the sadness and sorrow, the joyous and wonderful and the apocalyptic shattering but they stand ready to quash these intruders, to build, to restore, to reaffirm their sisterhood.

WHAT IT IS NOT

Bill squinted as the morning fog rolled by the kitchen window, sometimes it was so thick the barn disappeared completely, other times he could see Emma leaning against a fence post gazing towards the field. They had moved to be closer to Cricket and Sapphire, but Emma’s creeping dementia was distancing her from Bill’s reality. She never talked much anymore, just wandered around aimlessly, spiralling downward into a smaller world.

Bill did what he could to keep Emma engaged but his own failing health meant his efforts were muted. As he watched Emma out the window a small horse and a blind man beckoned Emma from the field. Emma followed, as did Bill.