Dragons, Flames & Fears
T oday I write to that lump in my throat that announces the arrival of a series of howl-filled cries interrupted by brief phases of silence reserved for reflecting. My hands shiver, my head reels, and I am unable to breathe. I want to run as fast as I can, screaming my heart out, terrorizing the entire world with the horrendous noise of agony and self-inflicted pain. My universe, limited by Little D, me, our petty issues, and life, is under threat now. This magical universe of mine has been fed to fire. I can feel the heat, I am burning; I can feel the burnt meat against my charring bones, I see how ugly I look. I see Little D in a corner, flabbergasted by all the action and light around her. She shouts for me “Mom, fire – fire is hot, fire burns”. Yes, I had taught her that – or was it my mom? Well, she has always had 2 mothers. Maybe she was referring to the other mom - ammamma – the more patient one; the better one. Fear is nasty, fear is unkind. It sweeps you off your...