She Had Only To Open

Because Fear Kills Everything," Mo Had Once Told Her. "your Mind, Your Heart, Your Imagination.

No Prince Had Lived In Those Wretched Hovels, No Red-robed Bishops, Only Farmers And Laborers Whose Stories No One Had Written Down, And Now They Were Lost, Buried Under Wild Thyme And Fast Growing Spurge.

Her Curiosity Was Too Much For Her. She Felt Almost As If She Could Hear The Books Whispering On The Other Side Of The Half-open Door. They Were Promising Her A Thousand Unknown Stories, A Thousand Doors Into Worlds She Had Never Seen Before.

The Sea Always Filled Her With Longing, Though For What She Was Never Sure.

Let's Be Off Before He Gets His Great Horsey Teeth Into My Poor Lines Of Verse!