The Isle had been a means to an end.
The cold had made her untouchable.
Her jaw had ached from clenching.
She had not been meant for the cold.
She had suffered worse things, though, Bible.
And then the sun, the splendid sun!
How spectacular its return!
Carved its way through the darkness.
Same way the child carved its way out of her womb.
And with the sun came her own personal sun.
A thing that threw no heat but orbited her golden head all the same.
And now she returns to the place where the child ruled.
Perhaps if she were more intuitive she could smell him here.
On this beach where his children were hatched.
A clutch of little dragons.
And maybe they are here still, looking nothing like their grandmother.
She will never know as she moves across the sand.
She will never know them as her grandchildren.
Even if they told her the father’s name.
Because she did not live long enough to name the father.
She looks for Chemdog.
But does not look hard enough to be disappointed if she does not find him.
The sand feels strange beneath her golden feet.
She thinks of her daughter, wonders where she’s gone now the sun’s returned.
Wonders if, for once, she was a good mother.
Turns her gaze to the sky.
Thinks this will do.
Doesn’t remember the last time she had a home.
i didn't need to go where a bible went
