Funny How Things Go . . . .

There are days I wonder if she's still the compassionate woman she was when we left.

She doesn't know how well I know her. I know because I've watched for years. She's become my mother, my mentor, the non-existent lover of dreams.

I wonder. She blew up a tyrant to save a dying race, condemning herself to a solitary life, compassion seeping away.

She's looking straight ahead, for that second star to the right. She thinks if she finds it, all will be right again; she can be exonerated from her crime of compassion.

But, there are days I wonder.

*END*

Back to Main Page or Back to Drabbles Page 1