2 Eleanor’s Dream

There are two of them, bent over their dolls. One is small and sickly; the other is strong and tall. Their backs are turned to me, so i can only see the delicate bones of their necks underneath their ponytails. The girls. While they play they are singing to each other, a song that the music master has taught them on the harpsichord.

Their singing stops, they have noticed my presence. The girls turn and i can see their faces now.

One so pale and thin, her eyes a waterless blue, their color fading.

One is merry and bright, her eyes a vibrant hue, their color blinding.

After a movement they turn back to play, ignoring me.

Expect now there is no more singing-only darkness of the room as the curtains close against the light, and the dream fades.

Two girls.

One beautiful and strong.

One plain and powerless.

One shall be the queen.

And the other shall serve her…

But as i wake from sleep, i still do not know—

Which one of them is my daughter?

And which one is the traitor?