| Disclaimer: Melkor and his cruelty belong to Prof. Tolkien ... I stake no claims ... well, maybe on this poor Elfy ... |


| Slow Arts |


I.


We are the Quendi.

We are the Speakers, the first beings to talk, to sing.

We are the first who were given Voice, and with it the purpose to give name to all that is in Arda.

I am a Quendi, a Speaker.

I name myself Lindo.

I do not remember why.

I am alone.

Yet I am not alone.

I do not know the name of the Thing that speaks to me.

For a long time there was nothing but me.

Then the Thing came.

The Thing whispers to me-- or is it my own thought?

Am I the Thing?

It names that which is around me-- burzum.

There are no stars in burzum.

There is nothing.

But I am here.

Am I burzum?

There is another Thing in the burzum now.

It is named ghâsh.

I fear the ghâsh.

I smell It first.

Then I feel It, beneath me.

Then I see It.

The ghâsh is not burzum.

Yet burzum is nothing, so there is no burzum.

The ghâsh is a Thing, like me.

Me?

What am I?

I am Lindo.

I remember now.

I am a Quendi, a Speaker.

I name myself Lindo.

I am in burzum.

I do not see the ghâsh anymore.

Perhaps It is gone.

But I still feel It.

So perhaps It is not a Thing either.

The Thing is whispering again.

It tells me a new name, a name for the feeling, for the ghâsh-that-is-not-there.

Pain.

_