...If We Do Meet Again, Why, We Shall Smile...

The evening wind rattled with blustery zest the Victorian multitude of San Franciscan Windows. Their rattle was heard high above, where Artemis sat in contemplation upon her gleaming steed. Every now and then she'd fire a white bolt across the moonscape, decorating the sky with pale streaks of meteoric joy. The world rested beneath her in a deep, thoughtful peace. So heavy were the thoughts of the hour that her mad, dashing custom halted in delay. Too many minds groaned to be heard.

Her child sat in solitude below her, masked beneath the turreted rooftop. Man made artifice of such fleeting nature could never keep her separate from his ponderings, so close in spirit were they. She felt his thoughts drift to a small, fertile plot short hours from the river they call Ohio, in a hilly tree covered upland. Here, in the shadow of bright limestone towers and far green lawns, he saw the faces of his friends. People he missed dearly, with whom he hadn't spoken a great time. Their inate understanding of his nature, their appreciation for his qualities, their acceptance of his flaws, and their genuine and mutual desire to see him again all lived hopefully in the memory of their smiles. He strongly desired the opportunity to work with them again, crafting spectacles of humanity unadorned with the cumbersome demands of commerce and profit. To create life as it should be. To bear the brunt of gales and snows in small cozy halls with warm attire and hearty laughter. To fall madly into the glorious summer tumults. To be with family again...

Artemis had no clear understanding of what kept this longing child from executing his will in the matter. Some object of weight and importance, some challenge or lesson tethered him to the west. She appreciated his ties to the lovely selfless beings he knew in his surrogate home, with whom he'd spent the previous forty eight hours in a delightful explosion of mirth and glee. Nonetheless, some clear test remained, some obligation of tremendous significance and principled relevance. Where the boundaries of this test lie, there was no clear answer. From her own confusion on the matter, she could tell her frustrated son couldn't figure it out either.

So she sat with him for a time, sharing with him what little wisdom he could decipher. She then galloped east, where a more mature night required the potency of her guidance.