‘The Fear of Growing Old Alone’ This morning as I was brushing my hair at my dressing table, my eye fell on the design on the embroidered table cloth. There was an earring on it and I imagined I saw a little face of a creature, trying to express itself and make itself visible. Transforming into a midwife, I assisted in the birth process. It was rather crumply looking and sad or terrified and this was the title I then decided on.
