Barrow Fields my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly

✹☾❂

 

The last time Eleuthera had been in these fields, @Kincaid had told her of the witch who had read his future in his whiskeydark eyes. 

It was really all she thought about as she returned nearly a month later, this time alone. Her mother had believed she could scry the future from the stars. This witch, from eyes. Scarab had believed the future lay in the mouths of the dead. Were any of these hypotheses anything even close to right, or were they just the murmurings of different various madmen? Who could really tell the future, after all? 

I mean, who could have foretold all this rain? Eleuthera was convinced that in the entire history of the planet’s meteorological events, nothing like this had ever happened before. Weeks upon weeks of rain? Eleuthera was a logical and discerning creature, and she understood the cycles of nature to a certain degree, but this defied all logic. Defied all sense of happiness and enjoyment, too.

Perhaps Eleuthera came to the fields hoping that she might find her own witch. One who could read her future — or at least give her a story to believe in. With the vestiges of Elysium all around her, she was well in the mood to believe in anything. everything. nothing, at all.

yoo hoo, @Yunxu :)