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Fortune always fucks with us. But we get by.”
There was a skull on the mantel,
It was a creature that sensed my anxiety and drew back from it.
I in the center between my two halves, we lay in silence for a while on the shore of an unknown future.
Ophelia laughed and so did I. Mother didn’t. I should have known.
Love for my sister was the only rock in the tempest.
“When you do something different, everyone does.”
Did Claudius own a poisonous snake, feed adders through the vents like what happened in that one Sherlock Holmes story? No, no, those accusations were unfounded and ridiculous.
“He is dead and gone, lady,” he sang. “He is dead and gone. At his head a grass green turf. At his heels a stone.”
His speech had done nothing to assuage my suspicions.
Were Julien’s suspicions right? Had Claudius somehow killed King Hamlet for the throne?
Not only was her whirlwind romance ultimately doomed,
“There are more things in heaven and earth than we know about,”
Such an odd confessional, a murderer to his victim. I didn’t regret killing the part of him that ruined my life, but he wore masks too, and I loved some of them deeply.
And suddenly, to be made of pieces of those I loved seemed a privilege, not a cage. I wish I had known it sooner.
