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Diana's Tale Chapter 4I took refuge in my room, not so much to escape my moms lecture, but rather what had happened at the river. Was Claire right? Was I not human? A thousand questions raced through my head, none of them answered. I could ignore what had happened in the woods, as well as my sudden fear of water, as some kind of fantasy of an overstressed mind. But not that noise. No human should be able to make a sound like that. It was wild, animal, a sound of pure dominance - that no weak ape could make. Whoa. Where did that thought come from? I got up and paced the room nervously. The feeling of otherness was getting stronger, and I wasnt sure how long I could keep it a secret.
This is so not good.
My head went round and round in circles, scrambling for some reasonable explanation, but getting nowhere. I glanced at t
Diana's Tale Chp 3Ok, that was closer, lets try again, Im sure youll get it this time.
You said that last time, and the time before that, and the time before that! I said, exasperated. I sat down with a thud and looked up at Claire, Lets just face it, were not getting anywhere.
For the past hour, Claire and I had been trying to override my sudden fear of the water. Claire had taken my news very well, and had immediately begun thinking up ways to figure out what was wrong with me.
Well, whats keeping you from going in? Claire asked.
I dont know. Fear, I think. I mean, I'm fine going up, and up to a certain point I can rationalize the fear away, but once I decide to actually go in, panic overtakes me and I freeze.
I sighed and looked out over the water. We were sitting on the rock I had jumped off earlier. It was stra
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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