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Her mother worked with light.

She was able to always make people look beautiful, shine the sun just so that they glowed. The starlight would glow in their eyes and the moon would always show them the way, she could light anything just how she wanted to and it was always beautiful.

But she was never really her mother’s daughter and her father has long since been lost to the waves of the sea.

She crafts shadows, weaves them through the world and slips them where they need to be. She’s not the light, could never be, but she likes to think she makes her mother’s light glow that much more brilliantly.

And some people need the darkness, they need the shelter because light is too harsh for the likes of them, sometimes her darkness is a sanctuary, sometimes they see better at night.

So she keeps working, keeps wandering the world and spreading her shadows, painting the land with them and madding just a little darkness to the world.

And, in her dark corner of the world, she takes comfort in knowing that everyone comes to her, everyone shuts their eyes when they sleep, every light casts a shadow, everyone will visit her eventually.
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thisisnomyth

September 2022

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