myth for cat greenbrier

There was so much light everywhere. Whether it was from the golden fields or the sun, or the lights they were required to have in their homes - on during the day. Off at night. No one saw the way the shadows moved.

Their mother was thin, when she gave birth to the elder, Rebecca. When she was born their grandmother had a dream that she was carrying the moon on a string. The child was full of honor and silent most of the time. She could stand very still for long periods. She was a master weaver. None of the officials knew this. They were not interested in the skills of the townspeople. Or even their own skills for that matter. If it could not be made by a machine it was not worth making at all.

Rebecca had no time to weave between harvesting and processing emmer. She came to understand that she missed weaving, though, from the time before the grass men came. Her hands longed for it. So she gave up sleep for the sake of weaving. The moon would fall below the horizon and she would still be up weaving. She slept only in the hours just before the sun rose and just before it set. Hiding her work in the wall, so the inspectors wouldn’t see, she came to work late before she was tired.

Violence was so simple. She was given soft but terrible smiles as she settled in for the day. It was only a matter of time before she would lose the right to work. Upon arriving home, she would sometimes explode into tear that she would quell as hard as a boulder. By evening she could barely keep her eyes open.

Soon she started weaving the smallest pieces at work. She whispered to sweetie “I am in love. I am in love with this weaver…”

“But you are the weaver.”

“No. She is more than I am. So much more. She is a goddess. I know this. She is everything dark and free.” Rebecca was silent for moment, “but I don’t know if she is real or if I am losing my mind.”

Sweetie dared not respond.

On the deepest part of night, Rebecca was weaving and a ghostly hand showed her how to weave with breath. It’s arm reached to what little light there was - the embers of the fire where pearl slept, to the stars and the moon, and showed her how to weave. And then the being showed her the most terrifying thing she could imagine. Rebecca learned to weave herself.

She wove until dawn and she was disguised as a woody vine-like plant, breathing slowly. Sweetie saw her as a vine and sometimes as a woman. Either way, Sweetie knew Rebecca was free.