She listens as he talks about the heart’s sins. She wonders if bad things with good intentions weigh negatively or positively. She’d done plenty of ‘bad’ things, but is it wrong to kill in order to eat? Is it wrong to drink and enjoy oneself? It is wrong, certainly, to deceive as she does, but then again she does it to learn, to survive, to provide for her brother and herself. Wrong and right, good and bad, these things have never seemed quite clear to her. She doesn’t believe that all killing is bad, that all kindness is good. Sometimes kindness comes with the wrong intentions, with a price that it should not have.
She finishes her drawing, returning the bucket and brush to Abasi after she is done. Her eyes linger for another moment on the child beneath the sheet, and she wonders who the child was, who he or she might have grown into if given the chance. That is always the question, isn’t it? “I hope that it helps someone. I know how hard it can be.” she says, willing to admit this much and this much only. She moves to the door, picking up her scythe and swinging it over her back. “Thank you for humoring me. I am sure I should let you get back to your work.” she says, giving him a nod before letting herself out.
(finished)
She finishes her drawing, returning the bucket and brush to Abasi after she is done. Her eyes linger for another moment on the child beneath the sheet, and she wonders who the child was, who he or she might have grown into if given the chance. That is always the question, isn’t it? “I hope that it helps someone. I know how hard it can be.” she says, willing to admit this much and this much only. She moves to the door, picking up her scythe and swinging it over her back. “Thank you for humoring me. I am sure I should let you get back to your work.” she says, giving him a nod before letting herself out.
(finished)
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
