escapism
...n. It was that deep kind of sadness that had nothing to do with squabbles and pettiness. But rather was a sadness of the soul. It was as though she was too kind and sensitive for the cruel world into which she was born. And it was for this reason that she retreated into the gardens that were her souls balm. She felt her most comfortable among the living her precious buds that were her passion. Anna felt lonely as she watched her mother. She was often alone but it was only when watching her mother through the slightly frosted glass planes that she was acutely aware of the deep ache within hair. Sighing resignedly, she drew the package towards her and undid the string bow. The brown paper was dotted with exotic stamps that told of faraway places. She carefully tore away the wrappings to find within the folds a doll. A very old and ugly doll. Gingerly, she picked up the doll and examined it closely. Its ragged dress had been discoloured with age and its Hessian body felt rough beneath her fingers. She wondered at her aunt sending her this old tired toy. Her aunt who knew her best. Something intrigued Anna about this doll. Puzzled for a while, she gazed at it and then it came to her. “I should be smelling moth balls and old lady’s socks, but she smells of crushed grass and something… something wild” Anna thought It was this that made Anna keep the doll with her for the remainder of the day. She even showed it to her mother over dinner “Lovely darling” commented her mother “although a bit tatty, I would have thought your aunt Lydia would have more taste that that.” She felt inexplicably drawn to this weird doll. So much that she took it to bed with her. Something that she had never done before. Its fragrant smell of crushed grass and soil enveloped her as she drifted off. “Oi, you girl, watcha doin still sleepin’, the suns been up for a full five minutes. The horses need rendering and your mothers sayin’ we’re outta firewood. Come on, get up!” The tone while gruff had loving inflections. Anna opened her eyes. She was in a place she had never seen before wearing a long white cotton nightgown covered in frills and ruffles. On her head, it appeared she was wearing a nightcap. Anna was too stunned to speak. “I must be dreaming”, she said to herself, but even that sounded too real. “How could I be smelling crushed grass and horses? One doesn’t smell in dreams do they?” mused Anna. Stepping outside of what seamed to be a caravan, a crazy but beautiful scene met her eyes. About ten or fifteen caravans were in a large forest, with the same number of horses nearby. Anna sat on the steps of the caravan and thought she was going mad. A large woman with long jet-black hair and wild eyes bustled up to her and said “ Karina, what you doing’ still sitting’ there, get to your chores”. Over the next few hours, Anna was told to chop wood and feed the horses. She noticed that the man and women kept throwing sidelong glances at her with worried expressions on their faces. “That girl of ours she done and read to many books for her own good, we gypsies, we wasn’t made to read no books. She’s acting like she’s never chopped wood before. What’s the matter with her.” Anna was struggling. She had never drawn he...