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| Pressing her palms together, her intricate life lines forming a tangled web between the two hands, she raises her chin slightly, pondering a question deep, her dark wavy waist length hair still, almost lifeless, as locks remain draped unintentionally over her shoulders. �What is life?� She looks away, her gaze an emerald green, showing wisdom, yet curiosity, fulfillment, and yet again, sadness. She speaks slowly to herself, after a momentary pause, her words like limpid ice against her cold tongue, the tone of her voice dark, disheartened, and weak .A shiver of dread races up her spine like shards of ice,what if .. what if she is not dreaming. What if this is all real. Thoughts of how she arrived here flash through her mind like a slide show. .Her dreams often dark, mysterious, confusing. Creating a turmoil within that she dared not acknowledge. But if you were to delve deep, within the cavernous maze of her psyche, you might find another River. The keeper of her dreams, of her darkest secrets and desires. If you find her, you might be surprised at the secrets she might unveil. --- |
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