In a lidded box on the shelf Angelica sat alone. Many months later, I took her out. Orange stripes dances around her body made of thinned yellow cotton. What is that at the tip of her ears? She said, “to survive the dark, alone, I became my light.”
His life is an ocean, his days tides. He sails, guided by the pink light of his nose on her storm grey combed cotton face. Rain, shine or thunder storm, weather does what it does, and he sails smiles and meows. I call him Leonard. His body made of a thick sand coloured ribbed jersey, […]
The black cotton didn’t stretch as much as I thought is would. She is small. I tried to grow this little one by stuffing her more than I did with other beakies. She is stiff, rigid and doesn’t give. Never give way, never give in, never up. The black mark on her right paw is […]
The worn and thinned golden cotton jersey barely veils the stuff he’s made of, let alone hide the rushes of emotions he has about everything around him. He hasn’t once been asked to retrieve anything, he wonders how he was ever going to prove his worth. He has seen his reflection in a jam jar […]
His peachy brown cotton spandex’s silky soft and smooth. While he was made, nothing snapped or snagged. He has no holes, no patches, no stains. He is just an ordinary dog, like any other. His only exceptional quality is that he beats the rest to even ordinariness. He didn’t mind. He didn’t care. Actually, he […]
His lint covered fabric was washed thin. I gave him black patches not only to hide the bumps inside. He stopped me from stitching another patch. ‘What was will always be,’ he said, ‘don’t need coverup, I need to dress up.’ With that same scrap, I made a bow-tie for Theo.