08-15-2020, 05:19 PM
someone will love you but someone isn't me --
She finds that it is difficult to leave the river. She comes back to it again and again, like maybe this time it will have the answers she seeks. Sometimes she comes in the bright of day, but most often, it is by the cover of night. There is something about the quiet and the dark, like maybe it is the sun and the afternoon birdsong that frightens her memories away. Maybe, in the safety of shadow and moonlight, and nothing but the lull of water running over rock, her memories just might creep out.
Maybe if she stands here long enough, staring at the current beneath the silver ribbons of the moon, she will remember who she was.
Where she was born, who her parents were, and everyone else that she is so sure she has met.
Everything that made her something beyond just a name.
She finds it hard to believe that Ivar is the only thing in her life. Enchantingly handsome though he was, and though their children were strikingly beautiful, something about it all just didn't seem right. While she did feel a certain affection for him she knows she does not love him. She knows that tropical island was not her home, she knows that there is more to her than what she can remember.
There is a sigh that brushes past her dark lips, lifting her gaze from the river to look instead at the sliver of a moon that remains half-hidden by clouds. Tonight was not the night she would remember anything, and she accepts that. She turns a gold-blazed face instead to the forest that flanks this section of river, tilting her head curiously at what she thinks is a sound of something moving in the dark.
Her heart jumps, not in fear, but in that long-lost way of excitement as it used to when faced with danger.
@[aleksandr]
She finds that it is difficult to leave the river. She comes back to it again and again, like maybe this time it will have the answers she seeks. Sometimes she comes in the bright of day, but most often, it is by the cover of night. There is something about the quiet and the dark, like maybe it is the sun and the afternoon birdsong that frightens her memories away. Maybe, in the safety of shadow and moonlight, and nothing but the lull of water running over rock, her memories just might creep out.
Maybe if she stands here long enough, staring at the current beneath the silver ribbons of the moon, she will remember who she was.
Where she was born, who her parents were, and everyone else that she is so sure she has met.
Everything that made her something beyond just a name.
She finds it hard to believe that Ivar is the only thing in her life. Enchantingly handsome though he was, and though their children were strikingly beautiful, something about it all just didn't seem right. While she did feel a certain affection for him she knows she does not love him. She knows that tropical island was not her home, she knows that there is more to her than what she can remember.
There is a sigh that brushes past her dark lips, lifting her gaze from the river to look instead at the sliver of a moon that remains half-hidden by clouds. Tonight was not the night she would remember anything, and she accepts that. She turns a gold-blazed face instead to the forest that flanks this section of river, tilting her head curiously at what she thinks is a sound of something moving in the dark.
Her heart jumps, not in fear, but in that long-lost way of excitement as it used to when faced with danger.
-- C H R Y S E I S
@[aleksandr]