Word Between Us

"Well, am glad yer there, hangin round, lookin, peerin, wearin those wonderflly human eyes of yers and wastin' away at the sight of my lil goings-on. Find some interest in me weavin hands eh? Well ye werent first and - Ive authority to tell - ye wont be last.

"Am glad. Am glad? Rather, Id be glad if I had the capacity for them happy stuff; Id be grateful too, if I could thank. Seein ye there - readin, readin - kinda reminds me of me in those wee lil pockets of time when I get the chance of remindin myself of me. Otherwise, theres always ye to look at - ah beautiful - mreader!

"Most customs of yers, I find strange. Atop themre those apologies ye give; as if momentsre trinkets that can be taken back willynilly. Maybe at some points, dear observer, ye think I owe ye one? A sorry I mean? Fer bein a meanie, weavin darkness atimes, spinnin brightness atimes, bein plain dull most atimes? And excitin only some of the times? Fer bein such a bitch?

"If I could be sorry, say sorry, become that word sorry - oh well, hell - lets jus say Id rather not. There must be times ye were angry, eh? But would ye know yer own hands without gropin in mstinkin dark? Would ye know the bounds of those eyes werent I too glarin? Would ye lazily - luxuriantly - ruminate - think at all if I werent dull? Would ye be anything werent I jumpy at times? Would ye even be born if I werent didnt come off as such a bitch?

"My time of tellin is over, fer now. Over, jus as it tells here, woven in me yarn. Over. All that should be said, I said unto ye. Ive spoken as Ive spoken to those who came afore ye, and I shall wag mtongue much the same way to the others whod come after. Its been awflly nice speakin a bit. Back to our businesses - now - then! Ye go right ahead and write me down a bit. I will just go on, weave ye some more.

"Jus a wee bit more."

- A Fate (or all three of them)
adresses an historian
(or all generations of them)