Small purse/personal item
The neighbours’ brindled cat carries a small capsule around the neck with an address and other essential information. When he goes on longer journeys he fills the capsule with cash and false IDs that he uses to get into pubs and other fully licensed places serving alcohol. He is otherwise, mostly, an even-tempered animal, good to children and a tremendous cuddle-tail.
In her pouch she carried items from the sea. Pearls, bladderwrack seaweed, mussel shells and a saltcellar. She wanted to be more earthbound in this way of doing things. Connect to nature. It took her long to adjust and usually she packed too much. Then the sea-foam dripped down her legs and gathered in the shoes. If she lost her ways she traced her murmur of waves and salt trails home - but otherwise a well travelled cod head lead the way.
This was a cumbersome thing and he had promised to take it with him. All the way. He wasn’t on a pilgrim journey though he was completely dressed in white, from shoulders to the little ball on his ankle. This was voluntary, partially anyway. When the nights came the colours turned upside down and the desert came blue and the sky red. The suitcase got heavier in every valley and it did not help that the red heels were one size too big. Besides that, it was hard to walk in the slim stilettos through the wet sand.
Karólína Rós Ólafsdóttir is a first year English and Creative Writing student. She is from a town in the north of Iceland surrounded by mountains and sea, a poet, feminist and a one half of an Icelandic poetry duo called Sóknarskáld - www.facebook.com/soknarskald
She is currently knitting a sweater and working on tweeting more in English, catch her @Karolinarosolaf
Words by Stephanie Gorman