As I sit and reminisce, memories of times long forgotten come crowding back, resembling particles of dust gathering upon a smoothly polished surface.  My clearest recollections are of madness and pain, sorrow and hysteria; it seems that joy and peace are merely momentary daydreams, while nightmares reign upon gilded thrones like emperors.  Idly, I snatch at random for a shiny, plastic toy; broken and discarded by a child who did not know the value of such gifts and so considered them expendable.

I am hard at work; cutting and pasting; laboriously forming letters that are just barely within the grasp of my youthful understanding; artistically arranging them so as to fit neatly into syllables like the pieces of a puzzle.  Working alongside me are my brother and my mother – she is our teacher; more dedicated to this fine art of exploration then any of the people who hang their degrees on whitewashed walls and expect instant understanding from their students.  My brother bends his blonde head studiously to his work; so do I.  Combined effort quickly forms a finished product; it is entitled in childish letters that resemble little wavelets…

D I C T I O N A R Y

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