Anne
Fall is without a doubt the best season. The weather is just perfect, warm enough on some days to wear shorts and a t-shirt, but cool enough on others to wear jeans and a sweater. Not to mention how beautiful and serene nature becomes. The leaves with their blend of gold, orange, red, and brown turn the forest canopies into works of art, and the migratory birds fill the skies daily as they seek warmer weather. In the forests animals are more alive than ever, burying their acorns and getting ready to hibernate, or doing whatever they need to prepare for the winter. I take a deep breath, relishing the crisp early morning air. A light breeze tousles my hair as I take a sip of my steaming coffee. The view from the deck this morning is breathtaking. From here I can see the forest that fills the valley, the fog at the bottom not quite gone in the early morning. I kick at the deck to keep the porch swing I’m on moving, the quiet creak from the chain breaking the peaceful silence of a world not fully awake.
“Anne?” I hear someone call from inside the cabin.
“Out here” I call back, not turning my head. My older brother opens the sliding glass door, his eyes automatically going to the swing. He smiles to himself, most likely thinking about how often I’m out here.
“I hate to be a downer, but you have to get ready,” Evan leans against the wall, looking just as excited for our father’s wedding as I am. Which is not at all. I let out a groan as I reluctantly uncurl myself, the cold of the deck seeping through my wool socks as I step down from the swing.
“Let’s do this,” I say unenthusiastically as I pass. Evan lets out a small chuckle before following behind me. I glance wistfully outside as he slides the door shut before heading upstairs to my room.
“Oh my god where have you been?” my sister asks, jumping off my worn bed. The sleigh frame has seen better days, but the rustic look matches the cabin, and me.
“Where do you think, Lizzie?” I ask with a smile. Though she is younger than me, Lizzie has her life together better than I do. She’s not even out of high school and already has a plan past college. Lizzie rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath before getting up and going over to my closet. I sit down in the depression she left on my bed, staring blankly at the photos taped up on the wall.
“Here you go,” Lizzie tosses a dress at me, hitting me in the face. “Go shower before you get into it,” she adds sternly. I stick my tung out at her playfully before taking the dress into the bathroom with me.
I walk back into my room, my hair wrapped up in a towel to keep it from dripping on the dress. I’m not surprised to see Lizzie sitting at the vanity, putting her hair up in an expert braid. She looks absolutely stunning in the light blue strapless flower girl dress. The sunlight from the window gives her hazel hair a brilliant aura, and the natural make up she put on looks stunning. She finishes putting her earrings in before turning to me.
“You look stunning,” I say to her, choking back tears. “Mom would be so proud,” I say, my voice breaking.
“Don’t you dare make me cry,” Lizzie says. “Now get over here so I can make you look just as gorgeous.”
I oblige, keeping quiet on how I could never look as good as her. Looking at my reflection while she works, I really notice the differences between us. Like Evan, Lizzie looks like our father, brown hair, and green eyes with a round face and tan skin. I, on the other hand, take after our mother. My skin seems almost white next to Lizzies, my red hair dull and the ends split. On top of everything, the dress is so not my style. The color is wrong, the style is wrong, and it doesn’t match the season. I sigh, forgetting I’m not alone, and Lizzie looks at me in the mirror.
“I know,” she says quietly as she wrangles with my hair. “None of us are happy about this, except for dad. But we have to at least pretend, if not for him then for her.” She smiles sadly at the mention of our late mother, and I reach over my shoulder to clasp her hand reassuringly. Though none of us are fond of out father’s fiancé, he’s happy, and that’s what out mom would have wanted.
“It’ll be ok,” I say, but I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or myself. Lizzie smiles before continuing with my hair. Finishing with a harsh twist Lizzie turns me around before I get a chance to see, doing my makeup in a matter of seconds. When she lets me look at my reflection, I’m astonished to see the difference. I actually look presentable for once. The thick Dutch braid, wrapped with a string of pearls is probably the best my hair had ever looked, and whatever product she put in has taken my hair from dull to blazing. Lizzie went for a more natural look with the makeup, and I doubt even a professional could have done such a great job.
“Lizzie I-,” I’m at a loss for words, something that rarely happens. “You’re incredible.”
“I know,” she says jokingly.
“Such modesty,” a voice says from the door.
Lizzie and I turn simultaneously to see Evan leaning against the doorframe. I sit silently, a smile playing on my lips as Lizzie rushes over, rambling about how he is going to wrinkle his suit leaning like that, straightening his tie while she does. Once she’s satisfied, Evan tells us we’ll be leaving shortly and to meet out front for pictures. I groan at the mention, preferring to take pictures rather than be in them.
“We all have to do it,” Evan says rather unsympathetically.
“I know,” I say rolling my eyes. Lizzie walks back over to the bed where two matching shawls are, one for each of us. She hands one to me, and as she is walking towards the door, I tell her and Evan to go ahead. “I’ll be out shortly,” I say.
Evan and Lizzie, knowing I always need a moment to myself before any big event, leave the room without question, leaving me to my thoughts. I wait until their footsteps fade before standing up and walking over to the bay window which looks out over the mountain forest. Standing out amongst the oak, birch, chestnut, maple, spruce, pine, and other various similar trees stands a single willow. Its size shows that it is older than the rest of the forest, the golden leaves covering a wide expanse of the forest floor. It was my mother’s tree. She would go there for every reason, whether it was after a hard day at work, or to share stories of magical worlds with me. She really would be so proud of Lizzie and Evan, both of whom are doing exceptionally well. Evan just graduated from college and already has an army of cyber security companies offering him positions. And Lizzie, after going viral on social media for her incredible beauty skills, already has movie production companies asking if she’ll work with them for hair and makeup.
Yeah, I think to myself, laying my head on the windowsill. Mom would be so proud of them. “If only I had even a tiny bit of their talent,” I say out loud. I try not to think about it, focusing instead on the movement of the trees in the wind.
A flash of light from the willow breaks my train of thought. I sit up, staring intently at the willow, thinking I’m imagining things. When I see the light again, I rush out of my room and race outside, not even stopping to think. Something is pulling me, urging me to reach the willow, it is a strange unfamiliar sensation, but not an entirely unpleasant one. I slow down when I reach the grass, still wet with dew, I gather the skirt of my dress in one hand not wanting to ruin it, and walk brisky to the edge of the forest. All thoughts of the wedding are gone from my mind as I step into the cool shade of the trees, all sense of time gone too. The leaf litter on the ground feels nice on my bare feet, the fresh scent of the forest making me smile as I inhale deeply. The air is alive with the musical tones of birds singing, and leaves rustling. The sounds are familiar as I walk the well-worn path to the willow, the woods knowing me as well as I do them. When I reach my mother’s tree I slow down, walking more cautiously. Not knowing what was causing the flashes of light, and if it’s dangerous or not, brings some level of sense back to me.
I walk silently, my footsteps light enough that even the most brittle twigs don’t snap. When I get to where the branches form a wall around the tree I pause. I hold my breath and listen for any sounds coming from behind the golden curtain. When I don’t hear anything, I let out my breath and use my free hand to brush aside the cascading branches, stepping into a golden cave. I have to push through a few layers of thin branches and leaves before reaching the center. No matter how many times I come here I am always struck by how beautiful it is. The trunk grows bare for ten feet or so before branches start to grow out, enclosing the trunk and a somewhat large circle of grass in a wall of gold. The enchanting hideout can fit my whole family comfortably, and once did. I still see nothing, and now I’m starting to worry I may have been imagining things. I walk around to the other side of the tree and stop in my tracks. I stare at what looks like a large, glowing egg, frozen in amazement. Until the egg rocks, and I realize this isn’t just my imagination. I don’t see any signs of something large enough to lay the egg and there aren’t any tracks or imprints indicating something was here before. Frantically I race to the woods outside, searching for anything that seems like magic, for that is all this egg can be. Magic. I find nothing.
I stand in the woods, my dress still held in one hand, and look behind me where I can just see the gold of the willow tree. If I go forward, I can forget this ever happened. I’d go back to the house where Lizzie and Evan will promptly scold me, followed by my father. We’d go to the wedding that only dad is happy about and then spend the rest of our lives pretending his wife isn’t trying to replace our mother. Or I can turn around. I can go back and wait for the egg to hatch I can miss the wedding which would really piss everyone off, but I can make one of mother’s fairytales a reality. Maybe if I do, she will have a reason to be proud of me. Taking a deep breath, I turn around and race to the tree, a sense of urgency sweeping over me. I don’t stop when my dress gets caught on some thorns and rips, or when a stream winds across my path. Reaching the tree, I frantically brush aside the thin branches, slowing to a cautious walk when my now dirty feet touch the grass. I thank whatever compelled me to get back here so early when I see cracks spreading across the egg. Silently I kneel next to it and watch, fascinated as the fractures spread and the egg rocks violently. A quiet tapping starts, and I hold my breath in anticipation, my heart racing as I see a claw poke out. More egg fragments fall on the grass as a tiny talon pushes out of the golden shell. Another one follows, and then a thrashing tail. The hind talons push against the outside of the egg, and tiny grunts come from inside. Suddenly a dragon pushes free from the egg, tumbling backwards. After a moment of laying upside down, it rolls over and looks around. Something deep inside me, something I can’t explain, knows it is a girl, and as she looks around, I am captivated.
I watch, mesmerized, as she plays with a leaf, rolling around in the dirt that does nothing to dim the golden glint of her scales. Successfully catching the leaf, the dragon shreds it with deadly silver talons. Sensing my gaze she turns around, stumbling over her long tail. I stare into intelligent black eyes, and they stare back, full of curiosity and wonder. The same feeling that made me rush back to the willow now compels me to reach my hand out. I don’t even question why. When I’ve extended it as far as it can go, I freeze. Time slows around me as I kneel in the grass, hand outstretched, waiting for something. Then the baby dragon takes a step, followed by another and another, each one more certain than the last. The world stops as she stands one tiny step away from me, the wind goes still, and birds go silent. I hold my breath as she slowly extends her head to sniff at my hand, the warm puff of air sending goosebumps down my arm. Slowly I reach down, never breaking eye contact. When the dragon doesn’t protest, I lower my hand the final centimeter and lightly touch the golden scales.
I feel warmth radiating from the scales, feel life and magic flowing through them before searing pain races up my arm and the world explodes into white. The light is short lived, only lasting a few moments before darkness creeps from around, swallowing the light. I feel warm breath on my hand and a wet tongue before everything fades away.
“Anne,” I hear a voice say from far away. “Wake up.” The voice grows louder as I become aware of where I am. Without opening my eyes, I can feel soft grass beneath me, but it isn’t littered with leaves like under the willow. The air smells sweet, and from behind my closed eyes I can see a light. Slowly I open them, blinking a few times against the brightness. Looking around I see nothing but green fields spreading out in all directions, domed by a clear blue sky with cumulus clouds happily drifting it the vast expanse.
“Hello?” I ask timidly, wondering where I was and how I got here. “Is someone there?” I feel a strange sense of calm, and don’t even react when a hand gently clasps my shoulder. I turn around, no feeling of fear or trepidation. When I see the woman behind me, I gasp.
“Hello, Anne,” my mother says, the sound of her voice and the sight of her smile brings tears to my eyes. When she opens her arms for a hug I don’t hesitate, letting the tears fall freely as she holds me tight. Wiping my eyes, I look up at her, taking in the features of her face I’d never thought I’d see again. She looks better than the last time I saw her, healthier despite being dead.
“How are you here?” I ask, the realization hitting me that the woman holding me died three years ago.
“I’m not. Not really,” my mother responds, a trace of regret in her voice. “This is a vision, nothing more, nothing less. That will not stop me from expressing how proud I am. Of you and your siblings.”
“What have I done to make you proud?” I ask. “I know why you’re proud of Evan and Lizzie, any parent would be if their kid accomplished even half as much as they did. But me? What have I done for you to be proud of?” My mother looks at me, a sorrowful expression drawn on her face.
“Oh, my sweet Anne,” she says holding my face in her hands, wiping the tears off my cheek with her thumb. “You have done so much to make me proud, and you will do so much more. Your destiny is a great one, but I know you will live up to it. Good luck, darling, and know that I will always be with you.” My mother’s voice dies as she fades away before my eyes.
I sit alone in this strange place, my cheeks still warm from where my mother touched them. Suddenly the picturesque fields seem too vast, the sky too far away. A heavy sense of loneliness settles on me, and desperately I call out, willing something to answer. Just before the final, feeble echoes of my voice are lost, I feel a pull in my chest. I close my eyes and focus on the sensation. It’s a strange, unfamiliar one, yet I feels like I have known it my whole life. The pull grows stronger, and I can feel myself moving as a voice speaks my voice.
“Anne,” the voice says again, growing stronger. It’s a young voice, yet it is laced with wisdom. Again, I get the sense that I have heard it before, despite it being completely alien to me. “Wake up, Anne.”
My eyes are still closed, and only the sound of the wind rustling the leaves around me tells that I am back underneath the willow tree. Opening my eyes, I find myself laying on my back, a curious face peering down at me. As feeling returns to my body, I can feel the weight of the dragon on my chest. When it sees me awake, the dragon leaps off me, giving me the chance to sit up. I still feel a little lightheaded and lean against the trunk of the tree for support. The dragonet walks over to me, all earlier caution gone. I lift my hand to stroke the golden scales, the dragon batting playfully at it. I lift my hand out of her reach, and she stands precariously on her hind legs, thrashing her tail for balance. Inevitably she falls, landing on her side with a grunt. I pick her up, and place her in my lap, the two of us staring at each other.
“Anne,” I hear a voice in my head say. I freeze, holding the dragon closer. “It’s okay, Anne. You don’t need to be scared”
“Can you hear that?” I say to the dragon, not questioning talking to an animal. She looks at me with those intelligent black eyes and nods her head ever so slightly.
“It is my voice,” this time I don’t wonder who is speaking, I know it is the dragon. So many questions start to swim around in my head, ranging from what the hell am I going to do with a dragon, to why me? “Be calm, Anne. Everything will be answered in time.”
“You seem very wise for someone hardly an hour old,” I say trying to distract myself. The dragon smiles, a joyful twinkle in her eyes. “I really need to figure out what to call you,” I exclaim, the sudden thought pushing my fears away for now. “I can’t keep referring to you as ‘the dragon’.”
“I am Belindo,” the dragon says, her voice certain.
“Belindo,” I repeat, the name sounding familiar on my tung. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard that before?”
“You and I are connected,” Belindo responds. “It was destiny for us to meet, our bond transcends time.”
I sit for a moment, mulling over what she said and absently stroking the velvet soft fur on her spine. Belindo hums happily, the sound vibrating within her. We sit there in the golden sanctuary of the willow, the wind weaving through the leaves a calming sound. I close my eyes, focusing on Belindo’s warmth. It isn’t until I see flashes of sunlight dancing over my closed eyes that I remember there is a world outside of the forest. A sense of dread courses through me, and I quickly struggle to my feet, forgetting about Belindo in my haste. She lets out a startled yelp when she tumbles from my lap and lands on the ground.
“Oh, sorry!” I exclaim some level of sense returning. “Are you ok?” I ask Belindo, kneeling to look for any visible injuries. The last thing I wanted to do was injure a newborn dragon. Belindo gets up, shaking of the leaves stuck in her black mane. A leaf pierced by her ebony horn flutters to the ground, the hole a near perfect circle.
“I am okay, but are you?”
“Yes, sorry,” I chuckle, embarrassed. “I’m just going to have one big scolding when I go home.” I laugh at the thought of my family’s reaction when they see me, and how Lizzie will probably be more upset over the fact I messed up my hair, and trashed the dress.
Belindo looks at me, a dragonish smile playing on her lips. I sigh, the realization of what I have done slamming down on me like a ton of bricks. I, a completely ordinary boring girl, have a dragon. How am I going to take care of a dragon? I can hardly take care of fish. Nervously I start pacing, biting my thumb as I mull over what to do. My stomach growling reminds me that all I’ve eaten today was a small muffin, and while I didn’t hatch from an egg, I figure it takes a great deal of effort. I glance down at Belindo to see her watching me, concern, and curiosity in her eyes. My stomach rumbles again, making the decision of getting food for me. The question now is what to do with Belindo. I don’t think anyone will be at the house, the wedding reception isn’t over until five, but I’m not sure. I know I may be able to explain why I missed the wedding and why I look so disheveled, but there is no way in hell I can explain a dragon. If only mom was still here, I think before I can stop myself. I know if she were here, she would understand. There’s no use dwelling on that, though. I can’t get stuck in dreams of what could be. I can’t leave Belindo here either. Sure, I doubt there is anything in the woods that would kill her, but I am not going to risk it.
“Alright,” I declare standing up quickly. Belindo looks at me questioningly, cocking her sliver speckled gold head, her shining scales reflecting the light. “We are going to get food. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Belindo coos curiously. “Are we leaving here then?” she asks. I nod, walking over to the gold branches and parting the flowing curtain. Flapping her wings, Belindo flies after me unsteadily. When we get outside the golden dome, she stops and looks around in awe. “I had seen glimpses of this from your memory, but this is so much better.”
“It is beautiful,” I agree, only wondering for a moment about Belindo seeing my memories. I look around at the trees illuminated by the warm afternoon sun, the beauty of it all almost other worldly.
I let Belindo look around for a little bit, my heart skipping a beat each time her wings faltered. When she finally landed at my feet, satisfied with her exploration of the surrounding trees, I continued our way out of the forest. I decide to take the scenic route, wanting to show Belindo all the beauty there is. I take her by the small waterfall, the spray creating a rainbow in the air. I show her the hollowed oak tree where a family of foxes nest in the spring, and the clusters of blue bells where bees still buzz about. A feeling of pride grows in me as I see Belindo look around, her amazement growing with each new sight. I laugh when a mouse runs out of a bush, prompting Belindo to shoot a small burst of flame in surprise. That laugh quickly turns into a yelp of surprise when I see a small pile of leaves aflame. Frantically I look around for something to put the fire out with but find nothing.
“Calm your mind,” Belindo instructs. “Focus only on what you need.”
“I need water to put this damn fire out!” I half shout.
“Trust me.”
Taking a deep breath, I do as Belindo says, focusing on the flames spreading before me. Some instinct takes over and I hold my hand out over the fire. Aquaria I think, the word sounding familiar and strange. A stream of water flows from my hand, dousing the flames and leaving nothing but soggy ash. I let out a strained laugh.
“I just- that was- magic!” I finally mange to exclaim. “I just used magic!” I am filled with an elated energy, and a feeling that I can do anything. I have always dreamed of having magic, of having something that would make me stand out amongst my family of stars. Underneath all the excitement though is a small current of fear. I know magic isn’t something this world is known for, and it scares me what might happen if the wrong person finds out.
I see Belindo crouching, attempting to pounce on an unburnt leaf, and impulsively pull her into an embrace, ignoring the sharp poke of her scales. She squeaks in surprise before wiggling free and shaking herself off. Still a little giddy I turn and continue along the path, a definite spring in my step. Belindo follows, occasionally chasing a bird through the air or stalking an unsuspecting cricket. When I reach the end of the forest I wait until she catches up. When she does, I pick her up, noticing as I do, she seems a little bit bigger. I don’t need her talons scratching up the floor. I walk the short distance from the woods to the steps going up to the deck and quickly run up them. The dark wood is warm from the sun, a vast contrast from the cold the planks emitted earlier. I’m relived when I find the sliding door still unlocked from when I ran out from it earlier, and carefully I ease it open. Still holding Belindo I walk from the living room to the kitchen, careful not to step on the white carpet. When I get to the kitchen, I grab a few sheets of paper towel and, after wetting them, manage to wipe my feet off. I won’t lie it isn’t easy while holding a dragon, but at least Belindo didn’t struggle or try to escape. Once I’m finished, I set her on the island. She walks to the edge and peers over, and for a moment I fear she is going to fall. Instead, she just turns around and walks over to the empty fruit bowl, sniffing it before curling up in it.
“You stay here,” I tell her, chuckling at how cat like she looks. “I need to go change out of this.” I look at the ruined dress, only a little bit of guilt over the loss. I was never one to care much for fancy dresses.
“Do not worry,” Belindo’s voice sounds sleepy in my mind. “I won’t go anywhere.”
After making sure I hadn’t tracked any mud in the house, I walk down the hall to my room. I rifle around in my dresser until I find my favorite pair of jeans and a dark green cardigan to go over my black shirt. I walk out of the room still trying to get my arm through the crocheted sleeve of the cardigan. When I round the corner, I see a man staring at Belindo, the only feature I can make out on his silhouetted face is his mouth open in surprise. A wave of fear crashes over me as I see the man raise his arm, something clutched in his hand
“Duratia!” something inside me shouts. The figure turns his head slightly before he goes ridged, a confused and questioning look frozen on his face. “What do you think you’re do- Oliver?” I am more than a little surprised to see Evan’s boyfriend here instead of at the reception.
“You have to unfreeze him if you want answers,” Belindo says with a dragonish grin.
“How?” I ask walking over to the island and placing myself between my dragon and Oliver. Guiltily I realize the thing in his hand is a pice of jerky.
“Just repeat what I tell you,” Belindo reassures. I nod agreement, feeling something rising from deep inside me. Instinctively I know it for what it is, magic. “Regelia.”
“Regelia,” I repeat. Oliver takes a shuddering breath, movement returning like the crash of a wave. I breathe a sigh of relief that it worked; I didn’t need Evan killing be because I froze his boyfriend.
“What the hell was that, Anne?” Oliver asks turning on me angrily. Instinctively I move in front of Belindo, protecting her from whatever Oliver might do.
“I- I’m not sure,” I say honestly. Yes, I know it was magic, but I have no idea how I have said magic. “I did it mean to freeze you.” Oliver just sighs and walks over the table, sitting down tiredly and loosening his tie.
“Where were you today?” He asks sounding exhausted. I feel a strong sense of guilt at the question, regretting not being there for my siblings, especially Evan.
“I lost track of time,” I say fiddling with the necklace I always wear. I take a now awake Belindo out of the fruit bowl and, holding her close, walk over to the table. I sit down next to Oliver and count the black spirals of Belindo’s horns. “How bad was it?” I see Oliver glance at me from the corner of my eye, he knows I’m not referring to the wedding itself.
“Same as always,” Oliver says with an angry clip to his voice. “Passive aggressive comments, church recommendations, calls to Jesus, the normal homophobic stuff.” I grit my teeth in anger, the idea that some people are just so nasty about my brother’s sexuality. Most of it is from out new stepmom’s family. It was never this bad before she came into the picture.
“Oliver I-” I try to apologize but he holds up a hand for silence.
“Save it. I’m not the one you have to apologize to anyway,” he looks at me, looks at the tears welling in my eyes and his scowl softens. “Why weren’t you there?”
“You can tell him,” Belindo’s voice is reassuring. “His heart is good.”
“I- I found something,” I started nervously, Belindo gives me a reassuring look and I feel a little calmer. “At the willow tree. I found a dragon.” A silence meets my words and I look up at Oliver to make sure he is still paying attention. I find him looking at me, his eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. He already saw Belindo, so I know he believes me, but I know he’s having trouble processing. Belindo climbs out of my lap onto the table. Slowly she walks over to Oliver and stands on the table in front him.
“Hello, Oliver,” I hear her say in his mind. Oliver’s jaw drops in surprise and a strangles sound escapes him. “Do not be afraid, I mean you no harm. A friend of Anne’s is a friend of mine.”
“You always said there could be more out there,” I say, a reference to his belief in a world past what we know. Oliver looks at me and after a moment laughs, a long hearty laugh. It’s contagious and I find myself laughing with him. We laugh for a while, over what I’m not sure, but it’s nice. After we both stop and catch our breath, Oliver speaks.
“How is this possible?” he ponders out loud. I shrug my shoulders, having been wondering the same this since Belindo hatched. “Okay, then how are you going to explain this to your family?” That question makes me freeze. Lizzie and Evan may be able to understand, especially if I show them Belindo, but my father is a different story. He will either send me to psyche ward or kill Belindo, probably both.
“I don’t know,” I say hesitantly. “I’m not sure how he would take it.” I don’t need to tell Olive who it is I’m worried about. He has been dating Evan for a little over three years now and knows our family as well as his. He was right alongside us when my mother was dying and saw firsthand how it changed my father.
“Why did you tell me?” Oliver asks carefully petting Belindo who sat down on the table in front of him.
“I figured you would understand,” I say. “Belindo also said your heart is good and I could trust you.”
“Well, I’m honored,” Oliver says. We lapse into a companionable silence before my stomach lets out a loud growl. “Maybe we should worry about all this later, you need something to eat.” Oliver chuckles as he walks over to the kitchen, ransacking our fridge for food. I smile at Belindo as a small sense of relief passes over me. Oliver believed me, and I wasn’t doing this alone anymore. Perhaps this could be something great.
