| Arlu wasted no time on regret. Fierce woman, she traveled into the land of recollection as a wealthy patron. This was more than she wanted but less than she needed. She never knew that. Would have argued with it in any case. False dreams raged in her dawn hours, sweet desire slid past her window on short and stubby legs calloused from fast groveling. The wind of forgetting gathered rain in western skies and muscled east on padded feet, silent until there was no turning. The tall clouds, high toned in white, wept for her lost years while she waded into her uncertain future. Dreaming of rainbows, hoping for meadowlarks and hummingbirds, she waded steadily into her uncertain future. |
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RD Savage
05/19/96 © 1996 |