'Too Time-Worn To Start Once More'
Listen - I told you I knew her well. I’ve known her since she was a little girl and since she was a little girl, she was a bookworm. Silverfish. She preferred to be called that. Silverfish! It was before the melting, as they say, the melting of this pretty town; when everyone spoke in the same manner, in different languages sure, but the same sound. (She sighs.) ‘Si’v’rfish,’ she’d say, for when she spoke she was often too excited, so rushed. She would be corrected: si-l-v-er-fish. ‘Si’v’rfish’, she’d say, head in a book, reading before eating, not each letter but somehow, each word? (She laughs.) Silverfish! But she thought it pretty. She thought it lyrical, poetic-like, you know. She could tell at that age.
But that’s a story of an old time. You don’t know where or even how to begin, not yet. Nor do you know her stories, of which there are plenty, all the stories of all the women, ancient and less-so, which are her stories too. You do not know the stories she knows, the stories which are her life, even ones so far untold. And yet – we must begin.
Women, you voices – I’m calling you. Speak! Oblivious to such discourse démodé, and the antiquities of Babel, the fall of the tower – fine. No more of that; I’ll let you talk in prose, lisping, as you may.
I see – too time-worn to start once more. Still, what I cannot do, she shall do herself in time – so I’ll wait and see; until this brimful silence will finish off all time.
Katherine is the Mayor of our town, and is a firm believer in fairness and due process. While struggling to unite her people in the face of grave uncertainty, she must also ensure everything in the town continues running smoothly: especially the annual Literary Festival.