third of november thanks for your letter your picture book stretched out the length of four cars your story s not easy but then what is easy with parents like yours and with mothers like ours you ve got me thinking what really happened til now i ve been happy to let the dogs lie but maybe i need to find someone to bleed to maybe that s you and for you maybe i what do i know what do i know about her i ve called her an empress i ve called her a tempest a force with no equal no other i ve called her an angel a rogue and a stranger but it just hit me now she was somebody s mother suffer the children cursed with the pattern so it has been or at least until now the looking glass turns to the obvious person and i ve seen it all and i still don t know how the heart won t be silent but why seek the silence the question is posed now you need to explain the books that i ve read maybe have me prepared but then what s prepared in a tempest of pain what do i know what do i know about it well i ve been a soldier the bitter the colder i ve been a wife and a lover i ve been the backbone i ve been the dead zone but i remember now that i m somebody s mother