Andromeda and Ted, part 8Andromeda stood, too still, on platform 9 of Kings Cross station. A long, deep green traveling cloak hid her robes, as obtaining Muggle clothing had not been possible. Her old school trunk held everything she felt rightful in taking; her favorite clothes and books, a few pieces of jewelry, and the handful of letters she'd saved throughout her life so far. She'd carefully left behind anything of hers that either of her sisters had ever coveted or borrowed. Narcissa had frequently worn the amethyst necklace that had been her eleventh birthday gift, and Bellatrix had more than once stolen a silver and emerald bracelet that had been a Christmas p
OctopusThe wood shard attracts you,thin parts sharpagainst your soft rind.Kinetic force ofcreak and snapresonates through the circular palates.Foreign, in this saline cosm,and familiar -You are the ancient witnessto the maelstrom of the universe.Now, reflections remind,hollow in your arm.They, and the wreckof your own existence.Crack apart, andfragments of yourself escapeto inhabit the new night.Fragile in their lunar globes,orbits indiscernible.