Friday, May 18, 2012
2012: Seven Macaw's Prophecy.
She is standing there. She is wearing beautiful clothes. People are looking at her.
No, they aren't really looking at her. They are only looking at her clothes. They don't look at her face, her eyes. Just her clothes.
The people are walking around and talking to each other. They are carrying bags of clothes.
They are not talking to her, only to each other.
She wants someone to look at her, to talk to her. She wants to talk to someone.
It has been so long.
She sees a woman standing close by, right beneath her, talking to her friends.
She tries to lift her arm. Slowly and jerkily, it begins to move. She reaches down to tap the woman gently on the shoulder.
The woman turns and looks up at her.
She makes her mouth move. It is hard at first. "Hello," she says, curving her lips into a smile. She remembers her name; she remembers it clearly. "I am Naveena. Who are you?"
The woman just stares, her eyes growing round as an owl's behind her spectacles. Then her mouth opens up, and she screams.
Other people are screaming now too, screaming and running away.
Why are they running away from her? She isn't doing anything wrong.
The people are running and screaming, pushing and shoving, the crowd swirling like a tide of water.
Naveena holds out her arms helplessly. She doesn't know how to make her legs move yet.
"Please don't go," she says.
"Please come back. Please talk to me.
I want to be your friend."