The clock on the wall moved efficiently, informing The Young Girl that She had little more than five minutes left to live. She sat shivering in a corner of the room that for so many years had been Her prison, pondering just how long that five minutes was truly going to feel. I imagine it felt much too short, but I can't say that I relate. Outside a spider slowly crawled across a network of thread, choosing Her steps with a care utterly ridiculous in its precision. The Young Girl inched towards the window with piqued interest, Her white linen gown flowing across Her revealing a body frail and delicate, abandoned by those who were sanctioned to care for it. The spider paid Her no mind as it continued to traverse its web delicately and deliberately. The Young Girl reached up with the index finger of Her left hand and lightly touched the corner of the web. The spider, sensing a disturbance, quickly changed directions and headed towards the young girl, staring up through multiple pairs of eyes at the creature so remarkably huge that was interacting with its home. The Girl deftly scooped up the spider, holding its downy abdomen between Her thumb and middle finger, watching eight jointed legs work lazily at the air. There was a moment where their eyes locked and they both acknowledged what was about to happen, and forgave each other for it. Quickly and skillfully the girl ripped the head off of the spider, tightening Her grip as the tiny body began to spasm. Clawed feet poked at the skin on Her hand, trying to find purchase with which to obtain freedom. "How like a spider" They thought "to attempt life after already dead." They were right, in their morbid way. It was darkly ironic to watch the spider's body struggle in the grip of The Young Girl while its head sat safely in Her other hand, no longer concerning itself with what ridiculous actions its body was taking. Tears streamed down Her face as She brought Her fingers together, crushing the final resistance out of the spider before putting it into Her mouth and chewing slowly. Savory. The window was gone, and in its place stood an oaken door. The clock on the wall moved efficiently, informing The Young Girl that She had been dead for over two minutes. Her head fell to Her chest, and the sobs that racked Her body gave way to slow and even breath as sleep found Her. Even in this place, sleep found Her.

For a long time, they had watched him, waiting for a chance to save him. He was promising, so promising. Wait. Wait patient, Wait clever, if you must, Wait forever. Children's rhyme. When he left himself to find a personality, They dismayed. When he returned, They rejoiced with song and dance, voices ululating high into what was known as night. Fire leapt and shadows played across Their face, revealing everything. Nothing. Nothing was all there was. The fire kept them warm, and in the day, the trees kept them cool. What beautiful folly, cold when heat was needed and hot when one sought cool. They raised Their faces in adulation, chuckling deeply at the cleverness of it. They watched him walk into the woods, carrying on his back the body of a young girl. Plump and ruddy, plush with life. She laughed, though no cleverness could be detected. He laughed too, and They laughed with him. So promising. He walked into the circle of Them, the smile on his face giving way to wariness. No, this was wrong, it was not supposed to go like this; he went home now, and ate and slept, his daughter sleeping and eating beside him. They walked to him slowly, shaking in anticipation of what was about to transpire in Their woods. Gently, lovingly, they whispered into his ear. They saved him. The woods were remarkably quiet as his shoulders sagged and his back bowed. His eyes stared into the ground, observing just how lifeless dirt was. Earth. The Earth was made of... Earth. How clever. Carefully he raised his face, and laughed. They smiled as his laughter carried out over the woods, across the sky. Laughter filled Their ears and eyes and mouths, giving Them life, form, energy. Then it was gone, and They waited.

No dreams would be joining the sleep that blessed The Young Girl in Her time of greatest need. Probably just as well, any nightmare concocted by neural impulses would no doubt prove to be an emotional disappointment. Dreamless, sleep consumed Her, molding Her into a smooth ball, formless and safe. Life then refuted sleep, and up from formlessness She gasped, filling Her lungs with dust. The door sat in front of Her, beckoning, pleading. It was tempting. Sitting cross legged on the dank floor in front of the giant door, She considered Her options. Nothing was what it was supposed to be, that was the only certainty. So, using the door as an exit was obviously not as simple as it seemed. How to Trick a Door, author unknown. Realistically, a door only provided two choices, enter or not. Enter, or Don't Enter. There were no doors to this room, that much had been made clear. The clock on the wall moved efficiently, informing The Young Girl that She had three hours left to live. Spiders crawled over Her as She sat and thought, thought for what seemed like years. Birds nested in Her hair and snakes burrowed in Her stomach, yet still She sat and thought. She grew old, grew weak, died, and still She sat and thought. Then She got up, moved purposefully across the room, opened the door and stepped out.

"That was not expected," They thought as the young girl walked out into the sunshine, filling her lungs with fresh forest air and her eyes with beautiful colors. They leaned back and watched her run down the path, muscled legs stretching and contorting in beautiful patterns, to the house where her father lay sleeping, watched her laugh and shout and cry and scream with boundless joy. They watched all this with shocked hearts and bated breath, repeating wistfully "that was not expected". Looking deep inside Themselves, a revelation was discovered through the disappointment. "Completely Unexpected."


"How Clever"