Remember....remember...please remember

Bits and pieces of memory would bubble up in her dreams. Upon waking, Mayan would scramble for her journal to write down all that she had seen before the visions flowed into the ether escaping the containment of her pen.  Seth mocked her daily ritual. He thought she was a bit silly for taking her dreams so seriously. What she wrote down on paper was life to her. In her journal entries, she found clues to gathering the fragments of herself that had been scattered among many lives, continents, and ages. Whatever Seth thought of her, Mayan cared not to explain the methods of a timeless being to a man she considered incomplete and temporary.