Who was she?
What were the voices stirring within her?
Where did she belong?
EXCERPT PURCHASE
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Christine’s Diary
April 30th, 2002 It was a strange-looking plant, its roots the blackest of blacks, its stems milky and smooth, dripping a honeyed liquid that splattered around my feet. I went to grab it, snatch it from the hands of the young man who stood before me as if taunting me with his downy lips, almost desperate to prove his manhood. Wand in hand—but not so golden, not so brilliant as I had wanted it to be. With this, he said—although I noticed he did not move his lips—with this you shall be able to keep your minds and senses clear on your journeys, on your adventures. Be able to defeat enemies who seek to encircle you in their many charms. Who threaten to transform you into another creature. I took it, but it crumbled in my hand, into dust and ashes. And as I reached out to grab another, the young man disappeared. So handsome, so smooth and milky. When I woke up, I was ablaze with passion for this Adonis. Was it Eros? Hermes—the ancient god of travels and hospitality? Regardless, it took me a while to gain a sense of reality, to remind myself that I was at the threshold of embarking on a journey that symbolised to me a rebaptism—a new beginning. So here I am. Ready to fly to Greece—true to the wandering spirit of my ancestors, who roamed the world in search of truth and wisdom—in search of new knowledge, in search of a home abandoned a long time ago... Such restlessness—such desire within me. I must pay heed to the restless spirit within me, as expressed in the great Odysseus, and make my way home. |
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