Up early, Aliya slips quietly into the kitchen and automatically begins selecting breakfast ingredients. Thoughts well and rampage through her mind; doubts, insults and questions tormenting her.

Am I moving too fast? Is this betrayal? Should I yet mourn? Desperate! Stupid! How dare I turn when I am yet uncertain?

The process of scrubbing and chopping the meat matches well with her inner voice as she bends to the task voraciously.

Am I mad? How can I know I will not harm when I cannot even see.... None but her. Will this destroy us or free us? Stupid ignorant woman, I am.

Mixing the thick batter seems inadequate to the pace of her thoughts, her hands seeming almost idle as her mind continues to rampage. Unable to answer the questions, she fumbles through her pocket until her fingers close around a needed distraction.

Pulling a small top out, cradling it like a precious treasure, a soft smile comes to her lips as she gazes at it. She sends the extremely well-balanced toy spinning across the counter. It's glittering form glides gracefully and her thoughts begin to follow suit as she pores the meaty batter into the frying pan.

I do not know what is right. Likely I never will. I need to live, she brings me to life. How can that be wrong?

The pancake-like meal called Bokoli is flipped and the top whirls easily.

Life is uncertain... people are uncertain. We both know this. Nothing is permanent.

A second pancake is poured as the first is removed and the top gets another spin. Its dazzling elegance has caught her eyes and she doesn't want it to stop its course.

There are risks, there always are. There is truth in my feelings and we can find solace in a difficult world. Isn't that enough?

A flip of the Bokoli and another spin. An errant sunbeam bounces its way through the bay and somehow finds her little window. The top glides into it and sends iridescent colors spinning about the room. Aliya's eyes light up with a child-like fascination, a dream of a simpler world where a child makes innocence a way of life. The pancake nearly burns as the toy holds her attention in a vice grip before the beam strays and the colors fade.

It is the attempt that matters. I must try.