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Nameless: A Fairy Tale
by A Very Tall Oak Tree in City Park
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Morgan did not give up. “Nameless, please,” He spoke
more quietly this time. “I cannot bear it. What has happened here?
Tell me, I beg of you. I wish to help you.”
Without looking up, Nameless answered, “It would be too selfish of
me…I would not subject you to the cruelty of the malefactor who has
brought this disgusting match about. I am meant to be wounded, not
you. Now, please…I am tired. Go back to your friends; they will make
better company than I.” She closed her eyes, making it clear that the
conversation was at an end. Feeling repulsed and hurt, Morgan turned
slowly, made his way out of the celebratory tent, and ran until he
could no longer hear the merry laughter and music wafting on the
evening breeze. He finally found himself at the foot of a large Oak
tree that he had been extremely fond of as a child.
“Why?” He called into the heavens, then crumpled into a heap at the
tree’s root and fell asleep, too exhausted to think any longer.
Weeks passed, and no word was brought to him of the newly wedded
couple. He desperately tried to find Nameless; he saw her only twice
before she disappeared from society completely, walking through the
crowds slowly, yet evading him with expert skill. Clearly she did not
wish to speak with him. Bowen, on the other hand, remained as present
as ever. His face always sparked a surge of jealousy deep within
Morgan’s heart. The son that he didn’t even want had the woman that he
loved. Nameless’ eyes, the way she listened, her soothing voice—they
now belonged to another. During his brief time in the East, Morgan had
come to feel that Nameless was for him, and him alone. He couldn’t
imagine her with any other. He had expected to return for her one day
to find her waiting calmly on her boulder, not to meet her in the arms
of a pig-headed man such as the one who now owned her. He could not
sleep well, whiling away his nights with worry. What was going on
between Nameless and Bowen? After a month of wondering, his
curiosities were satisfied. Rumors that Bowen’s wife was gravely ill
reached his ears and he felt that he had to see her somehow. He began
plotting, watching Bowen’s movements. It did not take him long to
realize that at the same time each day, Bowen disappeared for several
hours, then reappeared at nightfall. After making several inquiries,
it became apparent that no one knew where he went; he seemed to vanish
off the face of the earth. Morgan supposed that he was traveling to
speak with his dear old mum, but cared little where he went. He waited
several days to confirm his observations until finally, when Bowen
left his cottage in the late afternoon for his daily disappearance,
Morgan slipped inside.
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