Cryptic History
<< 8:57 p.m. - Tuesday, Apr. 22, 2003 >>
The girl looks through her hair to the surface. Far away and swaying. Above is a clear reflecting world. Why can she not reach what she longs for? They say life is not fair and her eyes soften and turn black. They say with what she has done there is little hope to succeed. She won�t deny what she knows is truth. Darkness reigns in all their hearts, and yet they are all alone.

She is from the ship island.

No wonder. There is the honeybee, the great, the Raven Maiden, the double industrious, the graceful, the pure, the two queens, and the fair. She loves them all and another; Little Raven. Her heart divides itself haphazardly. And cannot reform the pieces to fix her error. Little Raven deserves nothing, and still she won�t admit to her fault.

At one point she thought herself an elf mage. All knowing, all-powerful. And then the pictures fall from her bag. They fall, and she dies. She is not who she thought she was. Softer and paler. She can see it in the pictures.

Then she got lower than low. Sinking into hatred. Past the worms in their neat graves. Past the bones of her ancestors. To a place where she found pins in her skin. Took a photograph to remind her.

Now, having to relearn it all. She does a bad job. Is careless. This cycle will have to repeat itself too many times.

Tells others she loves change. And inwardly she cringes at the thought.