Screaming.

Not just one, but a multi-toned eldritch banshee howl of
grief and despair rends the stories into pieces and
dissolves them in a wash of pain.

Rhio appears in the bar, freed from her story temporarily,
the cataclysmic noise emenating from her throat. She drops
to the middle of the dance floor, sobbing. The wail goes on
long after her mouth is closed, finally spiraling in on her
shaking form.

In her hands she holds a blue embroidered collar and some
dog tags.

Slowly, a silver nimbus appears around her, then swirls
into a shape that gradually becomes recognizable as that of
a fuzzy medium-sized dog. The dog becomes solid, some last
sparkles in her fur, as she reaches out her muzzle and
nudges Rhio's arm, then licks it in a hopeful way. The rest
of the story hear, in a way, 'mom? S'ok mom. 'm here now.'

Rhio looks up, then throws her arms around the dog and
begins sobbing again. The two fade from view, back into her
story. But now, and forever, she is not alone.


^*^Rhio^*^

For my darling muppy.
Rowan - 1995-2003
Forever With Me.


=====
The Problem with defending the purity of the English language is that the
English language is as pure as a crib-house whore. It not only borrows
words from other languages; it has on occasion chased other languages down
dark alley-ways, clubbed them unconscious and rifled their pockets for new
vocabulary. - James Nicoll

Check out my neato keen new website!!!! http://www.morriganstears.com

New episode of Mope Opera coming soon...I swear!!!!

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