Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
When no chiding, lecture, or grumbling came from the stranger, Lena visibly relaxed – a gentle, calm disposition affixed, matched, with an effervescent grin. Even if they were both at fault, nothing seemed to have been amiss, and the conversation could take a curious turn.
Glancing downward at her mentioned notes, the young woman tilted her head vaguely, uncertain about the inquiry. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what a journalist is.” Lifting up her parchment, she gave another smile. “I was writing down some observations on the Hels,” and she pointed upwards, to the birds. For a moment, she merely watched them again, as one seemed intent on irritating a passerby, dipping low, then snagging some form of pastry out of their hands.
Trying not to laugh, she extended her other hand outward. “I’m Lena, from Stormbreak. Who are you?”
Glancing downward at her mentioned notes, the young woman tilted her head vaguely, uncertain about the inquiry. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what a journalist is.” Lifting up her parchment, she gave another smile. “I was writing down some observations on the Hels,” and she pointed upwards, to the birds. For a moment, she merely watched them again, as one seemed intent on irritating a passerby, dipping low, then snagging some form of pastry out of their hands.
Trying not to laugh, she extended her other hand outward. “I’m Lena, from Stormbreak. Who are you?”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
