Another hummingbird approached, and soon the two flew away, the
first in angry pursuit. A tiny warrior protecting his domain.
Persephone closed her eyes, leaned back to bask in the warmth
of the sun. The music of the stream, the softness of the breeze,
the quiet solitude of her garden lulled her into a light slumber.
And as she slept, she dreamed.
Games of tag, of skipping ropes, of dolls ran through her mind.
Friends she had known, kitty cats, and puppy dogs. Climbing the
tall oak tree and seeing the big, wide world from its great
height. Swinging on the swing beneath the tree. The taste of
blackberries, of cherries, of fresh peaches.
The dreams of childhood.
Her mother, holding her, hugging her. Her mother's smile.
Colored stones, and crystals, and flowers. Beautiful dresses,
and grown-up parties yet to come.
A far-off day and the arrival of a handsome prince, a marriage,
living and playing together as children.
Children of her own, and she would mother them as her mother
had done for her. Cookies, and pies, and cream covered berries.
Dolls for her girls, and swords for her brave boys. She would
sew for them, and of a night tuck them into bed. She would tell
them strange stories of magic worlds, and real.
Ah, the happy world, the beautiful world.
What dreams do children dream?
"Grim!"
"Inexorable!"
"Pitiless!"
"Passionless!"
"Without feeling!"
"Devil!"
"These have I been called!"
Pluto sat in his chariot on the mountainside, the mounting
storm surrounding him.
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