Sandra, Jennyo, JennyG and Freda had been waiting all afternoon for Magenta. They met once a month, in a small group they called Women Who Run With the Dingoes.. Each month, one took the floor,and shared with her sisters a fairy tale or legend of obscure origin. Then, they took turns, dissecting and debating its images and symbols, relating them to their own hopes and dreams. In retelling the ancient stories, the women revived the old ancestral passions, in so doing giving them new form and new power.

This month they were at Freda's place, sitting on her old paisley lounge, feet caressing the Persian carpet, surrounded by artworks, books, and soft music. Through the huge window they could see the beautiful leaves of the Japanese maple outside Freda's back door, draping the tree in shades of red, gold and ochre.

As usual her son had left a dreadful mess in the kitchen.

"It's unusual for her to be so late".
"It's so dark now - should we put the food on?"

Freda was whipping raw garlic, tomato and onion. The crackers were out, the baked ricotta cheese and basil was waiting, all in all it would be a tasty entree, and keep them going while Magenta told her story.

Knock.. Knock.. Knock...

Freda washed the onion off her fingers and opened the door. Magenta looked a little pale, she thought, but she gave her a big hug and took her inside. Baxter, the three legged cat, followed them in.