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psalm_onethirtyoneOh, yes. The small journey she made into original fiction, even if it's only a drabble. Symbolism up to here.
~~~
It was a dream, then, a thought. Love of an ideal, which had swum to him out of no where. He said, "I choose this for mine, just for me, to inspire me. It is my ideal, my dream, my thought."
The enormous sea surrounded him with its quiet and its rush, and he looked out over it and caught his ideal in his hands. He looked out over the crown of militant men and sifted his dream through his fingers. He said plaintively, "This was my inspiration," but the thought swam away.
He went tiredly back into the crowd.
~~~
It was a dream, then, a thought. Love of an ideal, which had swum to him out of no where. He said, "I choose this for mine, just for me, to inspire me. It is my ideal, my dream, my thought."
The enormous sea surrounded him with its quiet and its rush, and he looked out over it and caught his ideal in his hands. He looked out over the crown of militant men and sifted his dream through his fingers. He said plaintively, "This was my inspiration," but the thought swam away.
He went tiredly back into the crowd.
