arctic tales
the stories that are left untold grow imaginary wings. the process is slow, but eventually all of them will have become strong enough to fly away.
the stories that are left untold are a tribe of inuits living their icy life in silence and contemplation.
the stories that are left untold rarely speak, and when they do, they give away beautiful words as presents.
the stories that are left untold grow wings on the outside and at the same time grow deep within themselves.
B. knew a story located in the sub-saharan part of africa about a road that dies of loneliness and a tribe chief that took his son hunting. B. kept it safely locked away and waited for the perfect time to set it free. it was the perfect story and would have made someone perfectly happy. the story waited in it’s igloo for the polar night of B’s mind to end.
the perfect time never came. when B. remembered the story and searched for it, all she could find were the northern lights painted across a snow white ceiling. the traces of flight.
