The Dove and the Dragon

“Everything feels like someone else’s whim,” said the dove.

“What do you mean?” asked the dragon.

“Like I have to have patience for a million things,” replied the dove.

The dove continued, and the dragon listened.

“Like I see what I can do and what can be done and what’s being done and then I must sit and wait,” continued the dove.

The dragon listened.

“Like I’m expected to be made of patience,” continued the dove.

“But I’m an empty cup!” the dove screamed.

The dragon sat and listened.

“All that fills me,” contradicted the dove, “are the ghosts of compassion, love, and…”

The dragon kept listening.

“Even at the whim of my computer,” the dove stated.

“The victim,” said the dove.

“You said ‘compassion, love, and’ but then didn’t make sense,” said the dragon.

“I’m the victim,” restated the dove and then continued.

“The victim of updates for my computer at 30% for the last 5 minutes,” the dove closed their computer.

Then the dove started, “The actual victim…”

The dragon listened.

“There isn’t one,” the dove ended.

The dragon thought.

“You’re alone,” said the dragon.

“No,” said the dove, confused. “I’m not alone.”

“You’re sitting alone, not a victim,” continued the dragon.

“You’re not in control of your own experience,” said the dragon.

“Well, yes,” the dove said hesitantly.

“No one told you you would be,” said the dragon.

“In fact, you were often told that you would not be,” continued the dragon.

“You were told that you would be led, this way and that, pulled through the air by this demon and the other. You were told that you would be led by what came before you and what was and what would be. A victim of the godly wind and Spirit. You were told that you would bring a promise, were a promise, would always be a promise. Something about fate or the other,” ended the dragon.

“Now you’re the one not making sense,” said the dove.

“Ah, so you heard me,” said the dragon.

“Phooey,” said the dove.

“No,” said the dove, “I’m not the victim. There isn’t one here. Just circumstance.”

“And I’m not alone,” said the dove.

“Ah, so you see me,” said the dragon.

“Yes, of course I see you. I’ve always seen you,” contested the dove.

“So how do we raise the dead?” asked the dragon.

“Excuse you?” the dove queried.

“The ghosts of compassion and love,” the dragon explained.

“Oh that,” said the dove.

“Well,” and the dove thought, “maybe we dig for their corpses where they’ve been before?”

“Sounds like a start,” said the dragon.

“We could perform a ritual,” said the dove.

“We could,” said the dragon.

“Where have we found them before?” asked the dragon.

The dove cried, “Oh I’ve found them so deeply, deeply buried.”

The dove cried, “How will we ever find them again?”

“I know, I know,” the dragon consoled.

“I remember I found them once in the trees,” said the dove.

“So we go to the trees,” said the dragon.

“So we go to the trees,” said the dove.

“And not alone,” added the dove.

“Not alone,” said the dragon.