my dearest Jibri,
you will probably never read this letter - what a melodramatic start! If
you
do read it, it will be years from when it was written, we will have long
been handfasted and our daughters will be growing up. Perhaps it will give
you an explanation for why I acted so strangely once in 2004. But it is
more likely that, having written this to try to make sense of what is in
my
mind, I will destroy it. It will not be safe to keep. And I am unlikely
to
give this to you now. For while I have written this to you - you, who are
the centre of my world and who makes all clear in my mind - I know that
you react so badly to troublesome things, and I have no wish to cause you
confusion and take away your fragile piece of mind.
I am writing this, sitting on a bench at Central Station, late at night,
hoping that because the railway has its own security, and this is a quiet
night, that the police will not come here. I have no idea why the police
are
even after me... but I am too scared to find out by going with them to a
station. It could be because of the money - I swear it is not stolen, but
as
I do not *know* (although I have my suspicions) where it came from, that
will not help. It could be because of the knife I pulled on the security
guard - but I had to get away from him, with the money, and I did not think
of bribing him quickly enough. It could be because of general disturbance
at
the university, but I don't think they killed the man they had tied up,
so
it should just be candles and ritual paraphernalia scattered in the female
toilets...
Jibri, I am a member of the Sisterhood of Isis, I am the descendant
of a
goddess, and tonight I witnessed the emergence of nephilim from stasis
objects I was guarding. The nephilim are ancient beings - the ritual to
control their emergence I got started and I think finished but I don't
know - I had no idea what would have happened without it, I did not know
what to expect with it - and the nasty Templar kept hanging about, trying
to flirt with me, tempt me with his flash car, as if I would look at anyone
else than my beautiful lover. Then the police came... and I ran away from
them, through the rain and Victoria Park and found myself at Central. Here
at least I could dry myself and sit without, I hope, drawing attention to
myself.
Soon I will leave and make my way to you. And I will tell you some half truth,
some half tale of the police and some money and perhaps make out that there
was some stolen property in the shop - anything to excuse why I am not returning
to my flat or my shop and am hiding with you. And I will sit and watch your
beautiful face and feel your hand stroke my hair and you will tell me it will
be all right and I will breathe softly and bask in our love
but oh Jibri it will not be all right, I have this terrible feeling that the
world has changed tonight and it will never be the same and I've done
something wrong, something terribly wrong but I don't know what.
But this is not me speaking, it is the cold and the wet and the weariness
and the fear. And by the time I reach you I will be recovered and my normal
self and I will not let you notice the fear and the doubt, because you are
so easily rattled that I have no wish to add to your own confusions, my
love, my heart. And soon we will be joined and our daughter will be created
from that union then everything *will* be all right.
The
Water prelude – We Can Work it Out
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