Lady Companion


This is part of an on-going mini- project. A selection of photos generated from a random word plugged into a search engine and then used to kick start some form of fiction.

At first, we thought that we had invented it, there were no words in our lives, the lives of our families, our neighbors, friends to describe what we did, what we wanted to do.

We felt as if we had discovered not just each other, but a new way of being. We were like the splendid gentlemen who are busy discovering new lands, new continents, new peoples. We had our new continent and we were the only inhabitants.

Every day was a journey, an expedition, a mapping out of new spaces. We struggled to make a sense of our new landscape, to make it our own.

We had no problems creating a culture, an identity.

In our tiny population of two, we were everything to each other, mistress, slave, police and thief, sister, daughter and finally wife.

And finally wife, whisper the word, mouth it from behind a fan, breathe out the letter sounds, sense hidden behind fingers pressed against lips.

Wife.

Friend.

Companion.

Out there, in the world, we fill the space allowed us, spinster women, devoted friends, girls of slender means.
Our gazes averted, our modesty praised,we are held up as models of virtue.
We can be trusted to deliver baskets of groceries to the deserving poor, make up numbers when a table is thin, sit quietly while topics outside our experiences, our narrow, provincial experiences, are discussed.

But then, in our world, inside, we fill the spaces, fill all of the spaces, the empty places, nowhere is forbidden to us.

We are explorers, adventurers, swash buckling heroines.

We are the mistresses of this new land, this no-mans land.

This is for all those women, those devoted companions, those life long friends, whose particular friendships were hidden away, sometimes caught in a photograph, a letter, a gravestone.

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About cathi rae

50ish teacher & aspiring writer and parent of a stroppy teenager and carer for a confused bedlington terrier and a small selection of horses who fail to shar emy dressage ambitions. Interested in contemporary fiction but find myself returning to PG Wodehouse when the chips are down View all posts by cathi rae

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