That Way Madness Lies: XV of Shakespeare's Most Notable Works Reimagined

by Dahlia Adler

He draws a deep breath, nearly a sigh, as though we stand before something he thought we might miss. A meadow, the ground gently waving as a sea, wears a coat of rippling grass. Trees with leaves as deep as Narciso’s shirt define the edges, hiding it from view of the woods. Even through the rain of silver arrows, I know the place for what it is. I know it by the scent. The lilting perfume eases my heart open, even as I catch my breath. It is the damp green and early blossom of that which Narciso would not give up. A wide, glimmering meadow of love flowers. “And what shall I call you?” Narciso asks, his voice still soft with getting his breath back. I look to him. The wind lifts the edges of his hair as carefully as the leaves. Not What is your name? Not even What should I call you? But What shall I call you? It happens as a quick, bright thing, how I cast off the name Titania and Oberon have given me. And in its place I take up the earth from which the queen of the fairies stole me. It is a world away, that earth, but it is still mine. It lives in my skin and my blood. “Tierra,” I say. “Call me Tierra.” Beneath the rain of arrows, the shy, white blooms put on their coats of violet and brown and turn to face the glinting night.