Silk and Stone - Sting by TheOwlGoesMoo, literature
Literature
Silk and Stone - Sting
Every artist, every craftsman, of any medium needs their space to work. A studio, an office, a writing desk. Anywhere will do, so long as it is quiet, private, and they can make it their own. In Flik's case, it was a hole in the ground. He wanted to call it a cave, but even he had to admit, that was giving it too much credit. The hole was a round pocket dug out of the earth by a massive stalk of grass. The bottom of the stalk had been hollowed out some years ago by some feral insect, and the passage of time had turned the surface smooth and hard. It even had its own door in the form of another blade of grass growing up in front of the hole leading into the stalk. One only had to pull it down to quite literally slide inside. The inside of the stalk WAS very smooth. It made getting in easy enough, though climbing out could be challenging. Thankfully, ants were quite good at climbing. Of course, one needs more than just space to work. Flik had done plenty to the hole to make it into