In celebration of my novel The Unicorn, The Mystery being featured on Sapphic Book Bingo, I’m posting this excerpt from the book. The book was inspired by “The Unicorn Tapestries” currently housed at The Cloisters division of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan. A unicorn from the Middle Ages is speaking and has come across two lesbian nuns who also live in The Cloisters.
Chapter Thirty
I was captured because I was entranced by a patch of English daisies. The petals were tinged with pink and there was a yellow center. There was a patch of the flowers near the place in the abbey where the silent women lived.
I was just about to approach the path, when I heard voices.
“Oh, look — a patch of Mary flowers,” said a woman.
“Shhhh. We’re not allowed to speak,” said a lower female voice.
“What does it matter, the Mother Superior is not here,” said the first woman.
I quickly hid behind a medlar bush. I suspected that these women were the ones I had left behind a short while ago. They must have finished their loving and were wandering around like me, looking at flowers.
“But we have been gone so long, that she might come looking for us and hear us,” replied the one with the lower voice.
“Maybe, the Mother Superior will think that she is delusional and hearing voices. Maybe she will think that she hears the voice of God and that She is female…” The woman with the higher voice paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t say that to you. Surely you think me blasphemous.”
She was met by silence. Finally, the woman with the lower voice spoke:
“Actually, I think you may be on to something. Maybe God is a woman. How are we to know?”
Now, it was the other woman’s turn to be silent.
Then she spoke:
“Yes, you are right, my beloved. How are we to know? Certainly, the church fathers would cover it up if God was a woman. I bet the Mother Superior would cover it up too. If she had the time, I bet she’d wander the abbey too because it is so beautiful and when she found the Mary flower, she would pick its petals slowly, saying ‘He loves me, He loves me not.’ Or maybe she’d be saying, ‘She loves me, She loves me not.’” Then the woman with the higher voice had been speaking. She broke into a titter.
The other one giggled so gruffly that she sounded like she was giggling reluctantly. Then she said, “I never got that impression from her. She’s probably so miserable that she never has any kind of attraction. Seriously, though, we should go back before someone comes looking for us.”
“Ok,” said the first one. “I’ll follow you but then wait a while after I enter the convent. We don’t want anyone to think we’ve been together.”
I waited a long time behind the medlar bush. Then when the coast was clear, I retraced my steps to the English daisy, lowered my head and inhaled the spicy sweet fragrance of the succulent flower. I discovered that there was a trail of English daisies. Intoxicated by the vapors, I followed the flowers.
To see the book on Sapphic Book Bingo, click here:
https://jae-fiction.com/butch-character-who-is-shorter/
Janet Mason, author 