Molly’s diary: Returning

sunset.jpgAs the plane banks west, an orange glow on the wing catches my eye. Yellow-orange ball on the horizon turns the sky a shocking pink

I am above the sun, descending in a controlled fall as the the burning orb turns red and sinks below the horizon.

I finger the remaining pages of my book, dive back in, and consume the rest of her life, drinking in the last words, as the plane touches down.

She is there, in me. I can feel her stirring. She was with me before, though I did not know it. We are sisters, of a sort, occupying many of the same spaces, though in different times.

I have consumed one telling of her life. Now I want another. I am hungry for more of her though I fear that the more of her I consume, the more quickly her she will eat me alive from the inside.

apple.jpgWere it not outlandish and arrogant to think it, I would write that I am she, reincarnate. But that is not true. That is a wish and a fear, but not quite the truth. The truth is something more like kindred spirits, lovers, sisters in the freedom and the bonds of love and ecstasy and beauty.

~ by Molly Montrevoir on March 7, 2007.

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