Post by SUMMER on May 25, 2017 0:48:08 GMT
[attr="class","starpost"]
Tall walls and marvelously intricate ornaments. When she thinks of Phenac now, Eleanor remembers not the faces of her people, but the architectural beauty of the small city she was born in. When she thinks of the oasis town now, she frowns. A plethora of different, often contradicting emotions collide. <i>She knows Phenac was never meant to be her home—she knows that now, because home is wherever her beloved husband is,</i> but still she can't help fearing the detachment with which she now regards the place that saw her cry her first sobs, mouth her first words, crawl and tumble and walk and run.
Does it make her heartless, to not miss her hometown? Does it make her ungrateful?
Eleanor's had been a family that consisted of a single mother, an older brother, and herself. It was not perfect, it was not loving, and more often than not the three of them shared their time only during the few hours that exhaustion-induced sleep took over their bodies, but little Eleanor found she could not complain. Although, even now, adult Eleanor disagrees with her old family's ways, she can acknowledge her mother did the best she could. It was, after all, everything they knew, everything they thought possible, everything they aspired for. That is, of course, until she met him.
MADE BY JUNO
Tall walls and marvelously intricate ornaments. When she thinks of Phenac now, Eleanor remembers not the faces of her people, but the architectural beauty of the small city she was born in. When she thinks of the oasis town now, she frowns. A plethora of different, often contradicting emotions collide. <i>She knows Phenac was never meant to be her home—she knows that now, because home is wherever her beloved husband is,</i> but still she can't help fearing the detachment with which she now regards the place that saw her cry her first sobs, mouth her first words, crawl and tumble and walk and run.
Does it make her heartless, to not miss her hometown? Does it make her ungrateful?
Eleanor's had been a family that consisted of a single mother, an older brother, and herself. It was not perfect, it was not loving, and more often than not the three of them shared their time only during the few hours that exhaustion-induced sleep took over their bodies, but little Eleanor found she could not complain. Although, even now, adult Eleanor disagrees with her old family's ways, she can acknowledge her mother did the best she could. It was, after all, everything they knew, everything they thought possible, everything they aspired for. That is, of course, until she met him.
