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Worrying Mama

Sometimes I do write Mama the sorts of e-mails that I know will bother her immensely. But I'd rather let her know what's going on, even if it is the sort of thing that unsettles any sane mother (OK, well, my mother; some mothers would be very happy to get this e-mail) ...

It's also all in the phrasing. "Don't worry" uttered by a Fayoumis child is going to make my mother (chicken people: imagine a diminutive Silver Penciled Wyandotte) start worrying hardest.

This is especially true when "Don't worry!" immediately follows up a piece of neutral to pleasant news, because it implies that there's something to worry about. I'm sure that anyone who's ever heard me talking to my mother can imagine the smile I've got when I say it, and the tone of voice... for that matter, anyone who's ever seen the Azzgrin doesn't have to imagine the smile...
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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