. . .
fate had drawn him there. a map scribbled in the loose grains of sand, it was a pattern to be followed--as flawed and temporary as it was. the pattern was there, and the youth had decided to follow it. each step as steady and hesitant as the first. no more a young fawn, seemingly as timid and as mild as they came. a chalky tide slipped from his lips, highlighted by the glorious shine of the moon. yes, this had been fate. this had been a special sort of it. little had he'd known, oh the beauty in this truth, this was where they'd met. this was where he'd become a seed, an idea, a thought. this was where his mother been drawn into the loving arms of a stranger, where she'd been collected and swept up out of oblivion: where she had been saved. and there, there he'd stand, unknowingly in the vast unknown where his parents found one another. his curiosity drew him from the shadows, his adoration for adventure pulled him from his sparrow-boned mother's side. there he would stand, at least for now, if only to take in the night air.
meridian
. . . |