Post by Willow on Jun 17, 2005 13:54:01 GMT -5
A nostalgic smell of wind upset her current thoughts. She thought tenderly of her uncle, the times well spent together. His laughter came to life inside of her mind. Willow understood that people are always going to think tenderly of him. Her mother seemed the opposite. To her mother, it was the never returning days, of a hurt past she’d rather forget. The girl had a feeling that she would be traveling these next few years alone. Her mother’s strange outbursts sent her adrift. She felt estranged from her. Why couldn’t she tell her those intimate feelings? Even if she drifted by herself, it was better than being with some crazed queen longing for a lost love. The power of time is great, and Willow had suspected that her mother would have been healed by now. Yet, she continued to curse the court with her behavior. What if a neighboring country had come to seek an alliance and had witnessed such acts? Imagine the humiliation! Her mother could ruin all prospects for her! Something had to be done, but she couldn’t figure out just what. Her mind began to scheme wildly, producing vile and self-righteous plots against her majesty.
Visiting his grave sight felt like a dream. She felt split in two. Willow wanted to ask her uncle questions that no one else dared.
“Did she love you? Did she love you like a man? What a whore, to keep something so secret from her daughter and the court! What about my father, hadn’t he been enough for her?”
Her eyes stared into the mud-brown dirt. They had in fact spread his remains, but to a child, the concept was foreign. To Willow, he was still underneath this mound of dirt in which they had gathered.
“Tell me her secrets. What else is she keeping from me?”
The child received only a chilled wind that caught against her fabric. Willow stayed until the night crept into absolute darkness. Never-minding her exhaustion or the cold that crept along her skin.
Visiting his grave sight felt like a dream. She felt split in two. Willow wanted to ask her uncle questions that no one else dared.
“Did she love you? Did she love you like a man? What a whore, to keep something so secret from her daughter and the court! What about my father, hadn’t he been enough for her?”
Her eyes stared into the mud-brown dirt. They had in fact spread his remains, but to a child, the concept was foreign. To Willow, he was still underneath this mound of dirt in which they had gathered.
“Tell me her secrets. What else is she keeping from me?”
The child received only a chilled wind that caught against her fabric. Willow stayed until the night crept into absolute darkness. Never-minding her exhaustion or the cold that crept along her skin.