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Jan 01, 2009 21:18

anonymous~ post something beautiful. (letters, poems, lyrics, photos, etc.)

what is your favorite thing about where you live?

anon., inspiration

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anonymous January 25 2009, 03:49:57 UTC
There was something in her sadness that was strangely poetic. When she looked at the pictures of her daughter when the subject was thousands of miles away, he couldn't help but think of pianos playing or violin solos or the strength it took to do what she did. Pulling a trigger on command. Leaving her family to do detestable things just to support them. The things that tragic heroes were made of.

He told her so - that she was a hero, and that the sadness she endured would one day be rewarded. She had laughed at him, shoving him away teasingly like she thought he was teasing her. He had been transfered without telling her he was being honest.

He could hear the melancholy in her voice whenever she picked up the phone, just from her simple 'hello'. He would smile into the hard plastic, wishing he could look at her. He missed that strength and endurance that she radiated. It had been a constant in his life ever since he was fifteen. It was something he could never have.

"Nicolas is going to destroy me," she whispered to him during one of those phone calls. Her voice was a mixture of bitterness and a sigh. It shuddered with exhaustion. It was beautiful.

"He will never destroy you," he reassured her. He heard her hesitate on the other end of the line, then she chuckled uneasily. She said that he should call her Mara if she wasn't dead by the end of her contract. Call her daughter Ruth. God has been unkind to her, so change her everything.

He laughed, but knew not even she could change herself. She was a force of nature. She could never be stopped.

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