and then try to understand that saying...
and then try to understand the strange premise of this little double-drabble I wrote for Grace Pennington's contest on Holy Worlds:
The princess stared at the falling sunset. She had watched it, enamored, a thousand times before, but she didn't know that. Every time the sun rose or set it was a new thing to her. She had lost her memory, and forgotten where she left him.
All that she knew was that she’d lost someone, and that she wanted to have him. This was, of course, a perpetually new discovery. She looked under her pillow. He wasn’t there. She looked out on her balcony railing; he wasn’t there. Never perplexed (she had only looked in one place, after all) she went to her bedroom for the first time, and looked under her pillow. He wasn’t there. Her cuckoo clock jumped out at her and screamed, “Cuckoo, Coo-Koo!” catching the princess most off guard.
All through the night, by the wonderful invention of candlelight, she sought for him. Then suddenly a bird jumped out her clock, and looking inside, there he was! The blood seemed to have entirely drained from his head, making him feel as though he were floating, which was strange. They shook hands. Then she walked to the balcony as the sun rose. But that was old news.
Just something to tickle your fancy and let you know that I am not dead. I am just in my writer/school cave... only peeking out rarely... but maybe something more will come some time soon... maybe... though I only have foggy ideas what it could be. But foggy ideas are often my best ones! at least once I get out the hot air vent/fan to get rid of that fog and see what it is that is left.