I like to think to myself I'd have the time to walk along the cloister, and breathe in the midnight dew. The sisters would be right alongside me, waning in their faith. Their step getting lighter.
Following me to the cliff.
And as I have nothing to lose I have nothing to leave and the steps get higher walking on thin air.
A cliff far behind. A sea far below. Whereas above Hecate's arms stretch in a crescent.
Welcome they say.
For my sisters had been waiting for a bellrung confidence to stir me out.
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