|Sascha having a read and a nap|
Developed by Tiny Owl creator, Sue, and launched at Brisbane Writers Festival, it's a lovely project pairing art and story, in a handy take-home pillow!
As an avid fan of bookish art, I got all warm and tingly to see this project develop, and got even warmer and tingly-er to be a part of it.
Check out the text below, and if you'd like a pillow of your own, get in touch with Tiny Owl for more info
The Silent Door
There is a door in my house that no-one speaks of. It stands like a grand portrait at the end of the hall. It is unremarkable to look at—plain oak, with an iron handle and key hole.
I have asked of the door only once, and was met with a steely glare. ‘The lock is broke. The door cannot be worked.’ The arc of scratches in the polished floor tells otherwise.
It has been four years since I arrived at The House. Madame tells us we are lucky. Fortunate to have a roof over heads, clothes on our back, and such a generous patron. We dust and sweep and polish at the house, careful to be unseen and unheard until five when we stoke the fireplace, draw back the beds, and are ushered to our room. Throughout the day I find myself at the door, pressing my eye against the keyhole, only to be rewarded with darkness.
At night there are whispers. They speak my name into the dark - tell me stories of my life that was, and a life that could be. At first they were soothing, gentle, and would blanket me in sleep. But they have grown in urgency, until my mind is filled with the door.
The voices are fervent tonight. My skin ripples in anticipation as I push back the blanket and pad in stockinged feet to the bedroom door. My hand braces the doorknob, I’m surprised to feel it turn. My head is filled with whispers, and my eyes are drawn down the hall. For the first time, I find it open. I slip out of the room towards the now-silent door.
|Me with the pillowphoto courtesy of Liz McKewin|