Post by Princess Lillian on Jun 28, 2005 17:12:42 GMT -5
The large, crimson tainted wagon is folded out on one side, the other facing a closed, run-down building to shield against intruders..on the above surface lied a small, herbal garden in which the teenager living there, now in solitude, had once happily gardened with her advisor, her uncle, and friend; Feng Shu..a shrine now stands amidst the mythical potions he had so cleverly created out of nothing, the only reminders of what had once been the strangely quiet yet strong old man..a portrait of a man, who's age and wisdom could have granted him the title of grandfather, stood between several scented candles, lit and dancing faintly in the slightly musty home and shop. .several tears still darken the oak planks before the shrine, the first ever shed from the girl in many years..an image of a teenager could have been surmised from this, her form having trembled at the loss of her advisor..but now, she stands strong, heeding the words of the great man. [you may be only one, but you are one--you may not be able to do everything, but you can do something and you should never let what you can not do interfere with what you can do]
