Teardrops.

When crystal teardrops fell from the rumored icy priceless princess' jeweled green eyes, it was as though the angels wept. Indeed they did. As evidence, the clouds burst and the earth siblings ran for cover from what they called a flash flood. Shazhaera mourned her parents passing. She mourned easily, woefully and with bitter regret. Regret especially for the ceaseless hours she had spent enjoying her lavish youth and beauty. She regretted more taking it all for granted.

The old mother, as they called her, said it was a good sign she wept. A sign the healing season had begun. On Earth, there was a being, a special sort. Julien. He was as favoured as an earth child could be. Doue, the old mother, would say. As he hovered in the temporary shelter shivering in the wind and rain in scarcely enough for a summer's day, he wondered about the day he would be married. It was an arranged thing.

The girl was everything ... and nothing, tall, beautiful, smart, cunning, jealous and selfish. As Shazzhaera wept day after day, a garden took root under her feet. There were lilies and Irises and something the French called Jonquille. She it was because that kept coming to mind when she looked at them. That's what they are:Jonquille. And when she finally felt her perilous malaise ease, she saw their beauty. There was one, in particular-a yellow one with many tiers and a black eyed center. She asked quietly if she could pluck it. It gently acquiesced. And then, there it was a hole. Not a large hole-but she could see. As humans might see the ant populace, she saw Julien.

As Shazzhaera ceased weeping, the rain subsided. She noted curiously the rain stopped on earth and dearJulien left his shelter in search of a cab. Later that night, Julien dreamt Irises and Lilies and something he couldn't understand. As he watched the Lilies turn their heads to the sky, his eyes were drawn to follow. They saw seated a girl with an antiquated crinoline black and white petticoat. She was beautiful. She had long black hair, pale brown skin, red rimmed eyes. She was regal. He'd always wanted a royal princess. He'd watched royalty in its guises all his life. He was in a state of disquiet awe. Reaching for something he knew was his but couldn't grasp. These were beauty, grace and elegance. All his, but somehow, eluding him. As always in dreams, he understood her name and she understood his own. In fact, they understood each other somehow very well. When he asked her gently why she was alone, a flash of light came suddenly from her pained eyes, at her recall. The light contained images, memories, spirits of years gone by. That light lived inside her. Untouchable until she found her key. That is what the old mother said. her key.

In the morning, Julien ate, dressed and gave thanks to the Creator and went on his way. He, however, found something was missing. As time passed, he continued to dream about her, Shazzhaerra. Sometimes in great detail, and others not at all. It began to happen that he would see her likeness on TV. She left him smiling and happy and pleased. Julien's fiancee, Janene, gently faded away. She found herself happier ways to amuse herself and wanted his company. Eventually, Julien met someone else. The dreams began to fade. This new girl he encountered had caught him off guard not expecting to meet anyone at that time in his life. She never asked him his name or whence he came. He knew her and she knew him, it simply was that way. And finally after they'd spoken for an hour that felt like a beautiful eternity he caught her eye and that special light began to emanate, and it was the same. He asked her, her name and she said "Shazzhaerra, the very same, and you?"