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Widow’s Veil

Gabriel Sidwell
Gabriel Sidwell
1 min read

The two of them danced to the swirling lights that circled them with every turn, every step.

Red hair billowed with her dress as Seraphine gave him a wide, joyous smile. So much youth, and the promise of forever in those wide eyes that matched the desert moon rising, and would challenge the sun of tomorrow and on.

He loved her — knew it well and true.

As they turned in the sands and brought each other close, Seraphine leaned in close…

Garrett opened his eyes.

He regarded the room and the darkened interior of the Ward’s lounge from the recessed chair he found himself napping in again. With a light groan, Garrett rubbed his eyes with one hand, and shifted to knuckle his back with the other.

That same dream again. As it came so often. Garrett’s frown deepened.

A dream long past, lost to him now. And there would be no changing that. Not for him then… and not for him now, no matter wealth nor comfort. Not with his current charge. Any effort to reconcile the old dream was surely doomed to fail. He’d decided to resigned himself to that fact.

He had his charge. And no matter what the others said… death awaited. He had no promise to offer but a widow’s veil.

I have written upon fear, before. Many times. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Of progress. Of stagnation. Of loss. I thought myself an expert for the longest time — but in truth it is as esoteric as the dark.
Fear is a river. A river that can wash away all hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow. Knowledge can overcome. But you cannot beat a river into submission — instead you submit to the current. Instead you let the river drive you to where you need to go; not into a silt grave.
I have much to learn still. For all my studies and efforts, I simply do not have the time. Not anymore. I cannot follow the river as long as I wish before I am taken by Azeyma… I just hope to prepare the barge for others. I’ve accepted that. In time the others will too.
  • Penned by an Arithmetician

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