Aster

They explained
that everything would be fine
if I took the path they presented to me.

Now?
Now?
Where am I?
Who am I?

In the stories,
they only care about love and magic and coming home.

Chapter One
When I pushed the blankets on my bed off one morning, I felt a chill hit me, and looked out the window.

Everything was blanketed with at least three inches of snow, a sign that today would be interesting.

nothing makes sense anymore.

they wrote about the bad parts, but never the good ones.
Or was it the other way around?

if you subject it to too many layers of translation,
your meaning is lost in the flow

(I translated this into Icelandic and back, and edited some of the phrases it gave me.)

Truth be told,
how long can this take?

Bait and switch,
rock remix,
jump from dream to dream.
I'll be there.
Do you want to be?

Snow.
Thick brush.
Footprints.
Heading up a hill, feet crunching in the snow.
Brushing a scarf out of a face.
Avoiding the areas where a cat had killed something recently,
blood on the snow like bright-red tears.