Something that was me, or rather I was it, wandered so long ago until they met Auntie Stitches alone in the dark groves. She loved threads but more than that she loved fates. So whatever I was asked her " Auntie Stitches, Please tell. What will become of me? " Auntie Stitches raised her arms and stretched her fingers and with a great sigh her beak cracked.
" All your lives will be burdened with sorrow. I am sorry my child. " I was sorry too.
So some days as I curl away into the confines of my chair. Those moments I feel so sick and ill like I could die alone...that no one cares about me, that no one wants to understand me or give me that time...when that lonesome death seems so pleasant... I remember her. I remember Auntie Stitches. Thanks for the warning. I feel a little bit better...just a little bit. If I go, I promise I'll be back. They'll do better, I know they will.