"Okay Athena," Arachne says,
"I have woven 8, 9, and 10.
The last 2, are for you,
to finish what you
started,"  Arachne nods,
and turns to leave.

"Arachne?" Athena casts out
hesitantly, "How do you
Weave, without telling
stories?"

Arachne blinks, "I do not,
Athena.  I keep a journal
by the braid.  I let Tales
come, to let them
go.  And I do not take it
so personally,
knowing the imprint I am
mySelves -their common misconceptions,
and proclivities for certain
dreams, long whispered
in my lineage.  I keep
a pen upon the Weave,
to let spill,
and let be."

"And they do not
destroy you, Arachne?"
Athena asks.

Arachne furrows, "Athena, you are
not the castle on the shore,
you are the Ocean."