The Letter Never Written, The Story Never Told

I do not know why I am writing this. Neither do I know whether my words will ever reach anyone. The obvious followup would be why am I writing this then, yes? Ah, I wonder too. Mayhap, it is simply because these words need to be said and I no longer know where to find someone who will listen. And so this old woman writes...

I can almost hear her chiding voice in my ears, telling that I am not old at all. But what does one do when one feels old. So old. Down to my weary bones. Well, let's just go with old woman. After all, don't people often say that they're younger because they feel young? Then I can't I use the same logic?

Hau, my apologises. I have digressed. I wonder if you, the person or persons, who are reading this will understand what I write, if you have also lived through the world I have, if my experiences resonate in your heart. I wonder... Since I cannot be sure about these things, or anything really, I should note down that I was born in the age of the Safroons. The land was still at peace when I was born. I wonder if you know our history? Our knowledge? Our faults? I wonder if any of it will survive after I have passed.

My my. That does sound quite gloomy, no? While it is true that positivity is a scarce commodity right now, I will attempt to not be a blitzy fae. After all, I do not wish for my words to drip venom like their blood does. Again, I digress. Apologises. Forgive an old woman's ramblings. It gets hard to not get caught up in various thought streams. But that is not something you should have to worry about my dear so I will try my best to not climb vines in the middle on planting.

I must away my dears! I hear footsteps. I shall write more soon.

Love,

Laika