The Spider Woman's Daughter (kores_descent) wrote,
The Spider Woman's Daughter
kores_descent

Time does not tick like a clock, it rolls in like ocean waves.

The last few days here are so hard. I pack, my mother re-packs. I don't think she'll ever learn that the peaches and pinks of spring flowers just don't *work* in the Underworld. Over the years, I've learned to leave most of my winter wardrobe there... especially after the time my mother tried to "help" and clean the "dust" off of one gown.

It isn't like I wear those clothes around her.

Her helpers have learned to get along without her this time of year. She's either fretting over my luggage or shut up in her room. I wish she could understand. I don't want to hurt her! I don't want her to feel alone... And Gods, it isn't like she doesn't know when I'll return.

Sometimes I wonder about children. The Underworld is no place to raise a child. But I can't imagine any child of Pluto's being raised half the year by my mother!

Tonight, he's far away. My mother can tell, by watching me. It's harder to imagine leaving on nights like tonight... the pressing need is gone. I can focus more on what I need to do here, now.

My mother looks hopeful.
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