Rhi Axtell – Writer

I struggle to remember a Christmas period where I wasn’t ill. If you look back at Christmas photos from my childhood, you’ll see a pale boy smiling weakly, usually wrapped in multiple blankets. This year is not much different. I spent most of last night in a feverish haze.

Today, I present to you: Garlic. Garlic is a soft toy dragon (a red Welsh dragon) who travelled from Cardiff when my sister-in-law visited a few years back and now sits on the keyboard in her Parisian apartment. I was staring at Garlic the other day, too tired and worn out to do much else, and his reassuring smile and calm eyes seemed to say, “Hey, don’t worry, it’s all going to be okay.”

Thanks, Garlic. I needed to hear that.