An Anamnesis Of Spring √

garden

The cavalier comes home tired, and he wants to become more than what he is now,

The seamstress greets him with complaing. Sick of her life, she isn't fulfilled anymore.

The babe is a precious little flower, who would wrap her arms around them if she could, so they won't be swept away.

She can't.

You are too selfish, to tell them to be honest, you want to protect this babe from the cruel tempest, but you're powerless. You don't want her to be uprooted.

You all live in a glass castle of four walls with no roof, the rain water invades your lungs, soon you will all drown.

You don't belong here.

The heiress screams into the pillow at night, to muffle her crying so they would not hear her wilt. They're too withered. This is not where they belong.

This is not home.

They belong in the soil, in the sun, in the rain, in the wind, in all that is free and wild, and warm. That is where they belong.