[SWE] Festival of Lights - 313 PC

Melita

yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard

The honeybee was known for her fierce, feral, prone to impulse, nature. Not the one that grasped at her heart now, that stirred against dead leaves, that made her pulse quicken, eyes widen –

A rush of air took over her lungs as memories stirred and her mother was there, at her hair, at her shoulders, at her presence, and she turned, trying to see, trying to do more than feel those memories. If her hands reached out, could she grasp hold? Would the woman never fade?

And then her sister, somewhere on the breeze, twisting and turning, and she could almost see her, facing the wind and laughing, uttering sweet songs and telling her not to be disheartened (there was so much more to life - she knew that) –

There at the table too, in and amongst other ghosts, maybe, were the beautiful couple. The youth laughed amidst her tears, trying to dash them away from her cheeks, hide them from view, but they were free-flowing eventually, while companions curled along her neck or by her ankles. “Thank you,” she whispered to Ludo, and to so many other things.

I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury