The sky.

The ever changing curtain hiding the unknown infinity of energy and existence.

It's in front of her, at arm's lenght.

Unreachable.

Children.

She's supposed to bring at least one to this world, two or three being the most desirable, to help renew her generation. To raise and take care of them, provide them a healthy and useful education, prepare them to one day be able to look the world straight in its eyes and say "I'm here to survive you", firm steps as they go on with their lives and, they too, have their own offspring.

The dream of so many, the joy of so many.

She was supposed to be part of that cycle. Just like everyone. Only she was born dead; or died as she grew up, quite the same thing.

The weather.

The wind is howling, furiously running across the woods nearby, dodging the pine trunks but blowing hard on their upper boughs and twigs. South and North winds are fighting, there's another storm coming. Full moon's a week away.

I don't know what to do.

Wish I could leave 'her' behind to be what everyone would like me to be, to make everyone happy as they deserve and I know I want them to be.

Wish I could leave 'her' behind and melt away with the rain that's started to fall just now. And that everyone would be happy.