This is not, strictly speaking, a fragment other than in the sense that it is unpolished. I am a member of Lapidus (writing for well-being) and occasionally attend workshops in Truro. This one was run by the excellent Jane Moss. I can’t quite remember the process but I do know the starting point was The Magic Box by Kit Wright

Florentine, the Litfest Cat
Florentine, the Litfest Cat

Box of my Delights


My box is made of Coramandel wood

Striped chocolate and gold like the belly of a cat


Into my box I put my father’s lopsided smile

His eyes a rainwashed summer sky;

And alongside this, the chatter of pebbles, tumbled by the outgoing tide


Lurking at the bottom is a lump of pudding stone

Gleaned from a long-forgotten mountain top

And the fleeting shimmer of a salmon’s leap


My box has a maze of sweet-smelling boxwood and yew

Folded tiny as a postage stamp

And a ring of bells

And the sound of sheep grazing, and cattle lowing


In my box I will put my first kiss

And an eggshell painted scarlet and gold

And in that eggshell I will place all the hopes, loves and ambitions

That never came to be.

When I am done,

I will make a key for my box and that key will be fashioned from glass

And when I turn the key

The lock will rumble

Like the purr of a sleeping cat


inspired by The Magic Box, Kit Wright