Places Among the Stars

Candle was adorable. She had burned her hand by weaving too quickly. My elders were concerned. One flew over immediately, ramming aside the blankets of darkness. I was ashamed I was too far away to help. Her voice reminded me of someone else from my past, a jewel.


The sun was turned on for a new day. A turn of the knob. Who wanted to determine the weather today? The most popular subjective illusion. I was exhausted by another Gathering yesterday. It was not fun. I kept myself alive by writing poetry and drawing cymbals. Too polite to simply resign from the game. Another of my alter-egos suggested I go home to rest. I was thankful, but my home was not truly visible in my apartment.


The lunchtime game was played by the elven idealist (green as usual), Godmade (blue as usual), the elven savior (white as usual), the ring-bearer (black by choice), and I (red by default).
                     Godmade  ---  Savior
            Ring-bearer  -------------  Idealist
We ordered Italian food, warmed by tomato sauce, and ran terrified away from the smell of kimchee. We were alone in the dark forest. The ring-bearer and the elven idealist took the lead and weaved reality around us. High above, the stars twinkled from the elven savior's domain as Godmade claimed all the negative space. The rest came into my world, by default. Three names were still unknown. We were building a mystery, a story of miracles and magical realism.

Both Candle and I were in the game that page, while Eden outnumbered Teardrop 3 to 1, Candle to Eden, brandy to crow. History forgotten and remade, to turn the present into a gift, a cliche. The air was crisp, cold. The light of the moon dark and creepy. But we felt secure, thinking of the negative space all around. Yellow among white. It was a game within a game, within another. We peeled away the layers and found our own consciounessnesses. The world was left to punctuation marks. Mystery? Discovery! Hope,