Eowyn=Julie
2002-12-19 : 11:42 p.m.
The walls of her bower seemed so close, so thick and solid. Her window was locked shut, seemingly to keep out the winter chill-but in reality to keep her within. Outside all was dead, cold and dead. Visions and hopes of greenery and roses was ever before her eyes as she lifted her curtain to greet the day. But these sites were nowhere but on her walls, painted by her unpracticed hand years before.2002-12-19 : 11:42 p.m.
Responsibilities she neither knew nor wanted were thrust into her lap. They threw themselves at her like an over-excited lap dog who spits and slobbers and scratches.
All of her companions had left in one way or another. Her dearest friends were leagues away. The others had left in a misunderstanding and those that were not welcome into her keep were the ones who wanted to come in. The only "companions" she had were unrealities, the men and women on her bower wall. Books she delved into so as not to realize her lonlieness and the enclosing walls.
All material (c) by Julie A. Snyder