Samantha's Cracked Skin

in the long, cold days before her father installed central heating
(thanks to a grant offered by the local council)
Samantha would spend December to February in her bed
wrapped in blankets with an extra eiderdown and chenille throw
and wearing a woolley hat (knitted by her Aunt Agatha) and socks on her hands,
staring out through windows encrusted with ice on the inside
at a world passing her by with nary a glance behind.

she ventured out once a day for a flask of tea and another of soup
and once a week to visit the library to replenish her dwindling supply
of adventure novels and science fiction and tales of elves and goblins;
and once a month to visit the doctor
who would apply ointment and bandages to her cracked skin
and refuse to talk about the creatures that lived inside her
like fairies in a hollow earth
that only came out when she was alone.