Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigues, I have had my vision.
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She thought her world had stopped falling apart, but she was wrong. It had simply become isolated, her focus narrowed to struggling not to continually grieve for all that had been irrevocably lost.
Rome remained great as long as she had enemies who forced her to unity, vision, and heroism. When she had overcome them all she flourished for a moment and then began to die.
Her virtue was that she said what she thought, her vice that what she thought didn’t amount to much
About Here, She Thought, Dabbling Her Fingers In The Water, A Ship Had Sunk, And She Muttered, Dreamily Half Asleep, How We Perished, Each Alone. – Virginia Woolf
She wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. She spoke to no one. She spent hours on the riverbank. She smoked cigarettes and had midnight swims…