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Madison Scott-Clary 2024-02-04 20:25:09 -08:00
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writing/post-self/marsh/prophecies.html
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<p>When I Dream winced, squirming tensely in her seat, right at the edge of the couch cushion. &ldquo;It&hellip;ah&hellip;I mean, I struggled. I was there. We all were! But I struggled.&rdquo;</p> <p>When I Dream winced, squirming tensely in her seat, right at the edge of the couch cushion. &ldquo;It&hellip;ah&hellip;I mean, I struggled. I was there. We all were! But I struggled.&rdquo;</p>
<p>The panther smiled faintly to her. &ldquo;We all did, yes. Part of me felt that if any one of us did not go, then she would not quit. Another part was terrified I would be one of many who did not come, and that she would die feeling abandoned by her own family. If she was going to quit, and she wished to do so in the company of her clade&hellip;&rdquo;</p> <p>The panther smiled faintly to her. &ldquo;We all did, yes. Part of me felt that if any one of us did not go, then she would not quit. Another part was terrified I would be one of many who did not come, and that she would die feeling abandoned by her own family. If she was going to quit, and she wished to do so in the company of her clade&hellip;&rdquo;</p>
<p>She trailed off and let her gaze wander down to the drink she still held in her paws. Blinking rapidly, the muscles on her cheeks and snout briefly became more prominent, as though she was doing her best to keep her expression placid, much as it had been throughout.</p> <p>She trailed off and let her gaze wander down to the drink she still held in her paws. Blinking rapidly, the muscles on her cheeks and snout briefly became more prominent, as though she was doing her best to keep her expression placid, much as it had been throughout.</p>
<p>Alarmed at the sudden shift in emotions, Slow Hours scooted a few inches closer to If I Dream, offering her hand just as the panther had done to What Right Have I before. </p> <p>Alarmed at the sudden shift in emotions, Slow Hours scooted a few inches closer to If I Dream, offering her hand just as the panther had done to What Right Have I before. She accepted with a grateful — if still wan — smile.</p>
<p>Slow Hours returned that smile, saying quietly, &ldquo;That was the dream I had, you know. The premonition. An upwelling of joy and then an overflowing. She looked up to the sun, up to the RJ, and then they were one and the same, and it was all joy.&rdquo;</p>
<p>What Right Have I burst into tears. She did not cry prettily, but very few people did. It was, however, a brief cry, and soon after she scooted back to the furthest limit of the cone of silence and drew her legs up onto the couch with her, growling as she did, &ldquo;Slow Hours, you are the fucking worst.&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;I am the worst, yes,&rdquo; she said, voice still quiet and calm. &ldquo;But that is why I am choosing to believe that the premonition was true and why I am choosing to believe that she did find joy, or peace, or at least nothingness and freedom.&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;They both deserve to be together,&rdquo; If I Dream eked out. &ldquo;I hope your dreams were true, in the end.&rdquo;</p>
<p>They settled together in silence but for the whispered murmurs of some prayer What Right Have I kept mostly to herself. Neither Slow Hours nor If I Dream were nearly so devout as the third stanza</p>
</article> </article>
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<p>Page generated on 2024-02-04</p> <p>Page generated on 2024-02-04</p>