This is A Hansen Chronicle!!
Sometimes allegory can express what prose cannot. Here is a new piece, a very short one. I hope it touches you.
The day having strewn her winding path with varied turns and twists, Poetta found herself near sunset out on a lush, happy, grassy field — at peace yet not in stillness.
Her deep contentment was born not of quietness, but of melodies and motion and voices.
Among a throng of musicians and revelers, her thoughts were lively as well. Hearing someone speak of happiness, she cried out, “That voice! I recognize that voice…”
And she realized it was her own.
Poetta had lived many, many years, yet she was still a girl. A girl with a voice. A girl who thought often about sunsets.
Upon arriving at this grassy field she met a dear friend who thrilled to see that in spite of the stumbles on the shadowy road…
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