Unbound, unkempt, uncertain [Anyone]

[Insignificance]

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-- Insignificance – all awkward angles and mousey brown skin. With the indecision of a wanderer in her eye; a faint glimmer under a blanket of indifference. If only she knew – what wicked web faith has spun for her today. Then perhaps those walls of carefully constructed stoicism would snap like a twig. The consequences of being her, alas. The bustle of the waking river has passed me by completely. I see nothing, hear nothing except the words of my peculiar companion – the sensation of amity a warm rivulet of hope coursing through my veins and something awakens inside of me. Something that has been slumbering for far too long. I close my eyes briefly – and there´s a flash of memory so fleeting I barely register it. A name, no a face. A friend. I open them again in frustration and she smiles: earnest and light and I cannot help but laugh at her words – it´s an unfamiliar sound, that laughter of mine - feral and wild and strangely beautiful. ”Sunbathing? As long as we keep out of the mud I am content” I curiously watch the mottled mare as she gradually turns from deer caught in the headlights to something else. She may not look like much - but there is a spark of conviction in her eye that tells another story. A small glimmer ignited by something unknown - and there it remains, a fire shining more brightly than a thousand suns. It inspires something in me, there is something eerily familiar with this girl – something that begs me to unravel her mysteries.   ”Sig” I echo – tasting the name - ”I think I quite like that name” walk with me – tell me of your story A remnant of silver lingers on my back, daybreak steadily taunting my eyes and clinging to the ashy, unkempt roughness in my mane as we walk – side by side – two sad figures leaving mud and riverbed behind for greater adventures. My hooves travel without apology over the soil that gradually changes underfoot. I know this, have enough traction and felt too many fields to know when the Land changes from barren and unruly to inhabitable. I catch a gust of zephyr and I am not unfamiliar with the secrets it bears to its breast; I have readiness and the cunning mind of experience—these being my only tools of trade, and I know well the secrets this land holds. (or used to know) ”I don´t really know if I have a story anymore. I think, no I´m sure that I used to live here. It´s just so…frustratingly different and I cannot seem to figure out how it all fits together. I remember having a home, and friends but I cannot seem to remember their names. And I have no reasonable explanation as to why I left or why I´m even back here” I pause just barely enough to catch my breath after the flurry of words that escapes my lips like a caged bird tasting its first days of freedom. ”I suppose you could say my life has been altogether uneventful since then” I shrug – a sad, pointless gesture. ”But what of you? Are you from here?” Maybe, just maybe – she can help me remember.  "Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for." insignificance