The needle and the lantern

A needle is such a small, brittle thing. It is easily broken. It can hold but one fragile thread. But if the needle is sharp, it can pierce the coarsest cloth. Ply the needle in and out of a canvas and with a great length of thread one can make a sail to move a ship across the ocean.

In such a way can a sharp gossipy tongue, with the thinnest thread of rumor, stitch together a story to flap in the breeze. Hoist that story upon the pillar of superstitious belief and a whole town can be pulled along with the wind of fear.

Being with Margaret was like standing inside the casing of a lantern, one that kept the warmth in and the stinging insects out.

* The Heretics Daughter * ( am still in the middle of reading this, its quite taxing at first but its turning out to be quite a page turner for me at least.)

I'm grateful that being with Ayra and you is like standing inside the casing of a lantern which is warm and keeps the stinging insects out.

Because I hate stinging insects.

And because you both are all that matters in the end.