Hlussë

...or lussë means "whispering sound" in Quenya.

It's painfully beautiful outside; sun shining and the snow still staying for a while. The sky wakes old memories and with them comes a sense of freedom.

A sense of and wish for freedom I can do little about, however. This is one of the more prominent moments for which I was planning ot use my getaway stash. But it's all gone.

All the "never again"s. All the hatred directed inwards to myself. Trying to breathe air but breathing only sorrow. The sky whispers of magic and the air is still the air of my island. The music of Thomas Almqvist does its best to soothe me. I can almost see it - the world beside the world, the one I'm supposed to be in. I'm so close. I'm going to try sidestepping into it. After all, I've seen it in pictures. Can't be that hard, can it? It's just another reality.

And the wind keeps making the clouds fly across the blue, blue sky. There's magic there, too.