Entry #29

October 29'th, Monday

This morning at breakfast, we were sitting down at the table, and when I looked about at the shelves attached to the wall, I realized what I saw. Above the fireplace was a delicate paper statue of a beautiful ballerina standing on one foot. I pulled out the one-legged tin soldier, and realized that this was where he belonged; right next to that paper ballerina. I asked the woodcutters wife, and she said it was fine, so I stood him right next to her over the shelf of the fireplace. He really did belong there, and if you looked closely, the tin soldiers face seemed as though it smiled, though that could just be my fancy. But I'd like to believe it.

I walked back to the place where Baba's house was, but when I arrived there, it was gone. The only thing left was an implantation of chicken feet. It had moved. I had planned on apologizing to them, but it seems I might not even be able to see them again. I felt lost, and tramped my feet back to the woodcutters house. But when I got there,  I found that the tin soldier and the ballerina had fallen into the fire. The only thing left of them was a melted tin heart shape, and some black spangle from the ballerina. The woodcutter told me to take them with me, that they might lead me somewhere. So I put the remains in my bag. They remind me of my situation with Fenrir. And I headed out, not really having any destination. I think I might go check on my mother, but who knows? I feel light like feathers on this path that belongs to me.

On the way I met the egg again. But this time, I stopped and talked to him. His name is 'Humpty Dumpty', and he is quite an eccentric gentleman. We had a conversation about life and how strange it was. "Why," he said, "just a few days ago I was sitting on top of a wall fishing for a watch! I have to deliver it to someone. Life leads you places you thought you would never go." We then started talking about time. When I told him "I think I've lost my time," he handed me the pocket watch. "Then you are the person I am to deliver this to." he said. "This watch has stopped, like you. Perhaps you can get it to move again." The watch is indeed stopped. Perhaps from being in the river flow. I accepted it, and we soon parted ways after that. So now I have a tin heart, black spangle, and a pocket watch that has stopped moving. I like to fancy that it all represents me. The heart thrown into fire, the glimmer of life that is gone to me, and my time who has stopped moving. What am I to do with this?