By Dolores J. Nurss

Volume V: Sharing Insanity

Chapter 20




I have dreamed of pleasantly waking under a dome of branches, and have used this in several stories at different times.

I do not now remember how much of the first scene with Zofia and Kurmal I dreamed.  I do know that I dreamed multiple times of being called “The Tilián Witch”—angrily and fearfully by one side, with guilty hope by the other.  I never liked it but I learned to live with it.

And I have dreamed often of the little girl–she seems to crop up frequently, in different dreams, different families, and different lands: a hard-eyed little toddler who has seen too much, and who doesn’t speak.  She reminds me of me at that age, except that she’s often blonde.  An aspect of my Shadow, that I keep trying to outgrow.

Come to think of it, I haven’t dreamed of her since my father, bravely humbling himself to confess to a therapist what she needed to know to heal his sick daughter, admitted that the family story, that I had been late learning to talk, was a lie—I had begun early, but stopped for three years after he (under the influence of amphetamines, which people didn’t know was dangerous back then) knocked me out for naively imitating a cussword.  Since then I have found my voice, and lost the mute little dream-girl.

My dreams of Lufti’s ride are a blur, but I do know that part of it involved fleeing bandits who had nothing to do with the business for which I rode.

I wrote the wedding of Zofia and Kurmal.

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