#characomm

my muse can: 

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive calligraphy | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | do magic robot tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

“Of course, my sun and stars.”

“Naneth, did you mourn?”

“I didn’t think I could stop.”

“I was gone for eleven years.”

“Darling, please, do not stress yourself--”

“I’m quite calm, actually.” A pause. “Did you pray? When I was born, and when I was taken?”

“Ila...” They did.

“I laid next to darkness day and night. Under starlight, I damaged my throat with my cries.” There was a rough, rasping sound in her voice, her tone a warning snarl.

Her mother looked at the floor with guilt in her eyes, her father looked on with the cruel knowledge that he couldn’t save her.