Alys
this night is alive with the smell of insane —
Already the young woman was lost in thought, turning over this new idea in her mind: her cards shuffling between her fingers, drawing out the perfect one, and rather than simply describing it, showing it. To show the Fool, jaunty and naive, tumbling over the edge of his cliff, warning her patron of the dangers of leaping too quickly. To show Death, a card so often misjudged, as a caterpillar undergoing a metamorphosis, encouraging her patron to embrace change. The possibilities were endless, and her eyes lit with a kind of fevered glee.
"To help them," said Alys. "To help them to see more clearly." She spoke without thinking, without pausing, as though the words had been on the tip of her tongue all along. She giggled, pulling her hands from her pockets to clasp them in front of her chest. Then she realized that she must seem a bit insane, laughing at nothing, so she cleared her throat, hoping to cover up her momentary insanity. She regarded the man with new eyes. Would he be amenable to being a guinea pig?
"To help them," said Alys. "To help them to see more clearly." She spoke without thinking, without pausing, as though the words had been on the tip of her tongue all along. She giggled, pulling her hands from her pockets to clasp them in front of her chest. Then she realized that she must seem a bit insane, laughing at nothing, so she cleared her throat, hoping to cover up her momentary insanity. She regarded the man with new eyes. Would he be amenable to being a guinea pig?
— it's reaching for me and it's calling my name
