Marschta: The Marsch

Text: Ellinor Kall | Photo: Fred Andersson

This morning I heard anguished cries for help from the marsh, but when I got there the voice had gone silent. I stood watching for a few minutes, holding my breath, listening. But the water remained still. Only a lone bird was heard far away from the treeline. I took a picture before I went home.

By Ellinor Kall

Writer, demi-fictional, extranousician, liminal, non-binary & binary star. Writing fiction, poetry and philosophy about life, language, art, imagination, consciousness, magic and various other manifestations of the mind.