Great Escapes

I'm making a birthday card for my sister. I fold a piece of white card in half using a ruler and a skewer. I stick an old photograph on the front, with paper glue. I place it under a heavy book.

The photograph was taken in January 1964. My two sisters are 8 and 3 years old. They are standing in our back garden in their best dresses, next to two batwing chairs. In one of the batwing chairs is a record album, entitled The Beatles. That is mine.

Now the card is dry, and I take out my coloured pencils and a pen. I draw little motifs around the border of the photograph, flowers, a carrot, an ant, a plum. I begin to colour them. My pencils are very blunt.

Inside the card I write the details that were on the back of the photograph, and a lighthearted remark to the effect that if we had kept the album we would be rich today.

I'm all done. I slide the card, a letter and more photos into an envelope and seal it.

But what is this, crawling towards me on the surface of the wooden table?

Perhaps I will tell you tomorrow.