Luke Allan
Ursula Cheng

Carolyn Angelo
Tobias Cook

Tom Benn
Kirsten Cowie

Emily Bone
Andrew Denholm

Sarah Christie
Elizabeth Stewart

Jack Clark
Eileen Glass

Edward Keeble
Imogen Scott

Kerrick Newstead
Anette Fritsen

Laura C-Harries
Lindsay Grime

Daisy Dawes
AlisonGlanvilleJones

Sam Elliot
Laura Darling

Martin Gaston
Gillian Kirkland

Mary-Caitlin Hentz
Sarah Tanat-Jones

Kirsty Kelly
Jaimie Lane

Miranda Jackson
Trine Mangernes

Ailish McA Green
Lindsay McBirnie

Gina Mortlock
Lucy McCririck

Richard O'Brien
Elizabeth Walker

Vidur Nauriyal
Sophie Newell

Sophie Playle
Marc Noble

Kirsty Smellie
Fiona Purves

Frankie Taylor
Genevieve Ryan

   

The stars were bursting in the sky, like silver prawn crackers popping and growing and burning in a pan of too hot oil. Giant white lilies leered at me. Their big heads hung low but their beady eyes never stopped following me. Tufts of scrubby grass had eyes to watch me with as well, I knew that they were all against me.
Brightly coloured worms were leaving trails in the sky and I traced them with my finger. Clouds laced the black expanse and I was kissed by them all.
My goal was steeped in red, the colour of first prize. It rolled from the pavilion like fog on an empty road, calling me, enticing me, entrancing me. I knew that there would be no more mushrooms once I got in there, but it would still be my sanctuary.
I could have been found, cold and disheveled and vulnerable. I could have been rescued under the gentle security of a man’s dinner jacket, or at least an overcoat.
I was so close, but my steps seemed to be taking me side to side rather than forwards. I stumbled off the path and grasped at shrubbery. I dropped slowly to my knees and rolled over to lie on my back, staring at the flowers in the sky. I moved my head and my paper crown rolled away, to be trampled into the mud.
The cold seeped through my dress of grey rags. I’d been Moth in the annual school production; A Midsummer Nights Dream. My left arm lay above my head, my knuckles scraping the rough rocks, blood and skin staining the path
That was when I saw it. I struggled up and floated towards it, my new saviour. It got bigger and bigger until I thought I could walk into it, right through the front door. But Bob lived under the sea, and disappeared fast. I emitted one last solitary bubble trying to find him in an ornamental pond thick with algae and scum.

TEXT by Frankie Taylor + IMAGES by Genevieve Ryan