Musings. Ex Libris

                                                Brother Rabbit , William Morris. “You live, you flourish, you bloom.” The refrain her mother used to sing when she was still a child. In retrospect those words seemed to belie an admonition of imminent danger- there was no guarantee that everyone could smoothly ascend from “live” to “flourish,” and rarely, she thought, could one’s blooming maturity last well after the tail-end of summer. Musingly she stared out of a dormer window and stretched her tired back. Ladylike elegance made every woman look like a wooden crane. Her listless gaze landed on a tree overladen with burnished leaves; so plastic they seemed that one had the illusion of time finally ticked away to its finality- life only lived on as a pure artificial image. If so, she refused to become anything but a piece of cherished memory. The scenery from the window remained largely unchanged even years ago. But the difference of her feeling rendered the scenery throbbed a

She still lied restless on the ground days after she was created and sent forth to this unknown land. The land that seemed to her bristle with unnamed objects whose sharpness oftentimes rubbed her skin from pink to scarlet red. When it happened, some ineffable feeling scudded throughout her body like a little creature with spiky teeth that were liable to gnaw. And gnawed, and continuously gnawed until she wanted to rid the little creature of her body, insofar as she howled, a voice so ugly and thunderous that every other living thing bowed down and humbled in astonishment. She did feel prickings, both from within her body and outside it, after making such a shameless exhibition of her nature. Hunger was yet another “ineffable feeling,” but something less intolerant. There were periods when the feeling rendered her so euphoric that she guffawed. For days she fed on nothing but light and air. The age of Unknowing and Savagery lasted only a few winks of sleeps. She proved to