When we first met, in Chapter One,
Both young, imperiled by unknowns,
Certainty, in each, we’d found Home.
By Chapter Two, suspicions grew
Within me, but within you, too.
It was then, we clearly both knew.
Chapters 3 to 10, we tried to fight it
And win. But the plot would not permit
A deviation, even slight, in the script.
By Chapter 13, heroic, triumphant roars,
We battled side-by-side, despite warnings,
That I was Fantasy and you were Horror.
© CGT, 2017.
Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.