Thursday, 12 September 2013

Excerpt: MANscapes

Little by little her flowering womb absorbed her. Clara took to walking down to the beach at sundown, just as she had done in the Walker days. Wading into the silken waves to bathe her arms, and cupping the sparkling waters, she rained down liquid blessings on her curving belly.

To her delight, the child would leap in joyful eagerness at the distant caress of the water through the dense veil of her flesh. It leaped, like a sea creature wanting to escape the narrow confines of its inner space, to run into the salt embrace of the ocean. Clara would hum to it, pouring her meagre handfuls of molten silver over her flesh, then turn her belly into the deep surging flow of the coming waves. She would walk home, the wet dress clinging to her legs; to the high proud curve of her ripening flesh.

And Winston would be there. Halfway home he would stand - leaning against a fence - waiting. As she approached he’d fall into pace, casually throwing a light embracing arm over her shoulders. They would walk home thus. She, with her belly proud and tight with the leaping child; he with his arm - the lightest burden she had ever borne - laid along her shoulder.

Manuela Cardiga

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