Poetry, stories and knitting

When Women Weave Words…

on May 20, 2017


When I meet people I’ve  never met before I like to ask them what they saw as they journeyed to the meeting point. This is what Beth had to say…
My journey here

The soft breeze caressed my cheek as we stepped outside and I looked forward to the walk despite the imminent threat of rain. It had to be preferable to a ride in the musty and confined space of a crowded tram. We set off down the hill, prattling on about nothing in particular, like a gaggle of school girls and as we sauntered, I deliberately sought out the piles of windswept dry brown leaves, enjoying the sound and sensation of the autumn crispness underfoot. Onwards and upwards past the park where the leaves on the trees rustled frantically as if they were competing for attention like women showing off their wares in a bustling marketplace. Lagging behind the others, I was lost in a world of my own. I paused long enough to pick up a brown pebble and slipped it into my pocket, rubbing my fingers over its sharp edges and relishing the roughness. In that moment, the contrast of the stone’s qualities against the smooth, soft contours of my pocket reminded me of life in a strange sort of way. How odd!

The air was damp from the heavy mist as we finally reached the brow of the hill and as we continued, faithfully following the slippery wet tram tracks into Hyson Green, I finally caught sight of the gallery. Minutes later, we crossed the busy main road and ducked inside the welcoming warmth of the building. As I stood in the queue savouring the heady aromas of the rich spices emanating from the kitchen, a cIap of thunder heralded the storm outside and without further warning, the heavily pregnant rain clouds finally burst, giving birth to fat, juicy baby drops. Cradling a cup of fragrant hot lemon tea in both hands, I sat at a table in the window enjoying the spectacle. Pedestrians dashed in and out of the traffic, seeking shelter while passing cars almost ground to a halt as they valiantly fought to drive the deluge. ‘Just in time’ I murmured, sinking back comfortably on the soft cushions of the sofa.


Role of the Assassin 

I am an assassin. Perpetually traversing from the deep past, through the present and far into future, I execute with cold and ruthless efficiency. My role is explicit and the reason is clear. Retribution.

A silent assassin? No, not at all. Quite the opposite. My targets are aware that I’m closing in and they will know of my mission, but that’s all. When? How? It could take minutes, days or even years, however not knowing the exact moment of their reckoning only adds to that cold and eerie feeling of inevitability. When the time comes, they will sense my presence but by then, it’s far too late.

Why would I choose this existence when there are so many other directions I could have taken? My answer is simple. I have no choice. For every one of these vile humans inflicted unimaginable pain and death on an innocent. Each death was a cruel waste of a sweet life. Some died spiritually, some physically or mentally and countless others died in more ways than one. I can’t turn back time or prevent what happens in the future, but I can certainly help rid the world of these despicable beings whose only pleasure is to cause suffering. One by one they must all atone for their actions. Someone has to avenge these cruel and senseless deaths. Someone has to speak for the dead and protect the living.

Who said two wrongs don’t make a right?

About the writer: Beth believes although having dyscalculia and dyspraxia may have held her back and contributed to her lack of confidence, they certainly do not define who she is. Underneath the shy and seemingly impenetrable exterior lies a wicked sense of humour, an enquiring mind and a vivid imagination. She is continually inspired by the creativity of others but perhaps after years self-doubt, she is finally convinced that it’s never too late. So perhaps the time has come to bravely take those first steps to finding her own voice and becoming an inspiration to others.

NB: the final of 3 workshops based around Keith Piper’s solo show will be on Tuesday 23rd May from 10-3pm. Meet in the NAE cafe for this free workshop which includes lunch.



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