Justine Giles, 2018. A repository for her rage. [watercolour on paper 575 x 760mm].
A midnight storm.
A knock at the door.
An apparent princess.
A test.
A marriage proposal.
She wasn’t looking for a husband, or a kingdom. All she wanted was shelter, repose, and for them to take her word she was who she said she was.
When she told them she hadn’t slept they declared her delicate, dainty, definitely a princess. She didn’t say the insomnia was caused by having to bite down her fury to a ladylike size (it stuck in her throat).
The pea was just an irony.