Summer 2004


Summer 2004

Non Ifans

Princess Angharad swallowed the apple pip by mistake, she felt it slipping down her throat and tumbling down inside her. She ran up the stone steps to her bedroom in the tower, to take off her clothes. She hung up her pink blouse, folded the skirt onto the chair, and stood in her petticoat, her fingers rubbing her belly, feeling for swelling. It was already starting to happen. She could feel the seedling stirring inside, rising up from the compost of lunch. She cried then, thinking of the tree that would sprout, branches pushing out of her nostrils, her ears, from under her fingernails, children snatching apples from her branches.

The door opened, it was Mari, she had heard the Princess' whines from her room under the stairs. Mari knew how to get rid of it, her cousin had helped her once, after she had swallowed an avocado stone. She made Princess Angharad lie down on the floor like a stiff starfish. She bent over and pressed her ear to the Princess' naked belly, listened to the gurgling and pulsing inside. Then she moved her head down and looked up the little hole that she found there, searching for the young tree with her eyes, her tongue, her longest finger.


Non Ifans is a Welsh writer living in Cardiff, South Wales. She works as a Speech and Language Therapist. She will complete her MA degree at Cardiff University in "The Teaching and Practise of Creative Writing" in Sept 04. She enjoys writing all sorts of things both in Welsh and English, including microfiction, poetry, fiction and monologues.



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