'The Fear of Growing Old Alone'

This morning as I was brushing my hair at my dressing table, the design on the embroidered table cloth, caught my eye. An earring lay on the cloth and I imagined I saw the face of a little creature, trying to express and make itself visible. I felt compelled to assist in it's birthing process and instantly transformed myself into a creative midwife. 

It was born looking a bit crumpley and sad and slightly terrified. 

The title was written all over it.