Who knows how long it’s been since she turned me to stone? Not I. For a long time I remained standing there in the cave mouth, orange leaves drifted in past me. Then the snow, first a few flurries and then a blizzard.
When it melted I knew summer had come again. Presently I was discovered by a caravaner, probably searching for a new pass through the mountains. He laid me carefully in the back of his cart and, upon reaching the city, sold me to the King.
Now I stand symbolic guard within the King’s harem. I’m not complaining.
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