Don’t call me Melyssa. Yes, I know my name is actually Melyssa Ashelocke. I dimly remember being a disappointment to my mother. Did I have a male cousin, whom she always like better than me? Such memories come in vague flashes, leaving me wondering where they came from. I’m not sure what I’m doing here in Omphalos. I’m fairly sure Juno isn’t my mother, any more than Jupitre is my father, or Thomas is my brother. It makes me feel a little better about disliking them so intently. You can read about Jupitre at inspirationcauldron.blogspot.com. A seedier man I’ve never met, not that the rest of this village is much better. No, I don’t like many people, except for a few I’d really wish I could get to know better. Those few are as intent on avoiding me, as I am about avoiding everyone else. It’s gotten so lonely, I’ve started talking to myself. One half of myself I’ve named Mel, while the other is named ‘Lyssa. Mel is awkward, clumsy, bad tempered, and fails at everything she does. ‘Lyssa is slender, beautiful, calm, and doesn’t need anybody. ‘Lyssa gets stronger, when I meditate on Seraphix. What’s that? Oh, it’s just this coin, hanging around my neck, only sometimes It can be so much more. It’ll make my dream come true. It’ll turn me into ‘Lyssa, if I keep on believing in Seraphix. Believe It’s powerful, believe It’s a god, make It manifest in this world, in my heart, within my body. It’s so easy to get distracted, though, especially when I feel the answers to the blanks in my memory are here, in Omphalos. What will I do? You can read about it in ‘A Seraphix for Your Thoughts?’ once my idiot author hurries up and finishes it.