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Old Soul

With a small group of friends in a private home, we are enjoying the piano recital of a girl about fifteen years old named Topaz. She plays very passionately, as if she had a secret knowledge of life’s depths that should only accompany someone that has lived a long, full life. The quality of her playing tells me that she possesses taboo knowledge of deception, beauty, power, sexuality, and faith.

Topaz enjoys filling the room with the heat of desire and the chill of envy. In contrast, her visual appearance suggests that she is young, naïve, and innocent. She doesn’t wear makeup, her skin is flawless and glowing, her fashion is simple, and her body is without curves. The way Topaz so boldly uses her talent leaves us in awe; and she knows, and greatly enjoys, that we are all stunned into silence.

When her performance is complete, the woman sitting next to me stands and praises the pianist for having lived so many lives, for bringing the knowledge to us, and honoring her covenant with the Creatives.