Folded Word
Exploring the world, one voice at a time.
Tag: Creative
The Aegean and the Land
The warm air of the Aegean is a blanket wrapped around you. Life moves slowly and without any cares. Days stretch long like a yawn and nights are still and quiet. Here, in Greece, the heat of the day weighs your bones and makes your limbs heavy, pulling rest and sleep in to you naturally and peacefully. The ocean withdraws and then pushes forward to the land again and again like deep and dense breaths.
Together
They had a routine, and that was something to hold onto. Every morning began the same. She couldn’t remember exactly what the night and the day had been like before they made this child, but she knew they had been less full, less anchored.
Evolution of the White-Throated Sparrow
She could have made a different choice—Her blood parts, that is, her bone parts, parts
With complicated names, syllables hugging–Packages of sound on the siding of language.
Wonderfold Winner
Wow! I can’t even express how excited I was to see the many wonderful submissions we received this month. Thank you so much to everyone who submitted! Our winner this month through much thought and consideration is Elizabeth Spencer Spragins’ Tanka. Take a look below and remember to check back in for our next edition of #Wonderfold!
Doddington Hall
Doddington Hall in Lincolnshire is a mansion house set amongst intimate gardens and sweeping open land. From the outside the house is Elizabethan, but on the inside it has the interior of the 1760s. It is two things at once, it is a move through time. The house, though obviously large by most of our standards, doesn’t feel overwhelmingly big inside. The first room we walk into is the dining room.
Wonderfold Winner
Our winner this month is the haibun “For Lack of Light” written by Kathleen Cain. We received many wonderful submissions and would love to remind you that if you weren’t picked this time, to be on the lookout for the next #Wonderfold! You never know who will be our next winner!
A Story Festival
On a small patch of green beside the library in this close community on the hill, once a year we tell stories in a marquee while the sun blazes, the rain beats and the wind howls.
Bird’s Eye View
The people down there are walking on the concrete pavement, sitting on wooden benches, driving in their metal cars. The city is a constant loop of vehicles, smoke and smog, and noise. It goes around and around and I can see its shunted and criss-cross movement like the leaves on the tress see the ants below.
Folded Word 